A Cruel Twist
by laoisbabe
Summary: Walt is caught in a robbery and ends up fighting for his life. Story revolves around his family and deputies as they deal with the shock and the fall out.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N - I am missing Longmire terribly so to fill the void I decided to try write my own story. Set sometime towards end of Season 3. Vic and Sean have split. Not entirely true to series but pretty close. Just a stand alone story._**

**_Disclaimer - I do not own these characters. _**

Chapter 1

A tired and weary Sheriff Walter Longmire returned to the Absaroka County Sheriff's office and hung his hat and coat on the rack just inside the door. His deputy, Vic Moretti, raised her head and smiled at him from behind her desk. His other deputies, The Ferg and Branch Connally, were busy discussing the lunch order.

"You want something, Sheriff?" Ferg asked.

"Sure," Walt replied. He was starving. It had been a long time since breakfast. "Surprise me."

The Ferg shrugged, knowing that meant the usual. Walt entered his office and closed the door without engaging further with his staff.

He flopped into the chair behind his desk and contemplated the morning's events. It had been an exceptionally busy morning and he had spent the majority of it trying to track down a suspect who had attacked and raped a middle aged woman living on a ranch a few miles outside of town. It was a harrowing and violent case. The woman, Molly Grady, had been found by her teenage son when he went looking for her early that morning before school. She had been badly beaten and left for dead. Walt got the call before he left his cabin and had driven the Bullet at speed straight to the Grady's property.

He had arrived before the ambulance and witnessed Mrs. Grady's young son, Mark, doing his best to help his mother. She had been beaten about the head and was drifting in and out of consciousness when Walt got there. Her clothes were ripped and her son had tried to spare her dignity by covering her with a horse blanket. Walt did what he could to make her comfortable while they waited for help.

The ambulance arrived soon after and took Mrs. Grady and her son to the hospital in Durant. Walt checked around the property for any sign of the attacker, but he was long gone. It was obvious from trash left in the barn that he had spent the night there and Walt assumed that Molly Grady had probably disturbed him when she entered the barn that morning.

It had been a tough day from thereon in. Walt followed the ambulance to the hospital in the hope of talking to Molly. However, the unfortunate woman remained unconscious, the doctor's suspecting swelling on the brain and they were unsure if she would recover from the beating she received. Walt was angry and frustrated. So far, he had very little to go on. Obviously, the victim was his best witness, but he had no idea when he would be able to talk to her or even if he would ever be able to talk to her.

Walt hated cases like this, incidents where good people were touched by a dreadful evil that shattered their lives. There was no rhyme or reason for it. It was just senseless barbarism.

That was what was going through his mind when Vic yelled from the outer office for Walt to pick up line one. It was his daughter, Cady.

"Hey, Punk," he greeted her affectionately.

"Hi, Dad. I'm just calling to remind you to go to the bank this afternoon. Remember? Like you were supposed to do yesterday and the day before that," she said pointedly.

"Well, I'm kinda in the middle of something here," Walt told her evasively, wanting to spare her the details of his harrowing morning.

"Dad, you're always in the middle of something," Cady reminded him. "This will take all of ten minutes. Just cross the square and take out what you need to pay Bob."

Bob was the handyman that Cady had hired to help her dad finish off his cabin. Walt sighed.

"All right. Okay," Walt relented. "I'll go right now. Are you still cooking dinner tonight?"

"That's the plan," Cady replied. "Just try be home by eight….please?"

"I'll do my best," he said before biding her farewell.

He rooted in his desk drawer for his bank account details. He had them written down somewhere. He found the scrap of paper eventually, then dragged himself back to his feet and marched through to the outer office. The Ferg had left to grab the lunch orders. Vic and Branch were working at their desks.

"I gotta run to the bank. Be back in ten," he said, reaching for his jacket and hat once more.

He strode across the road onto the grass covered square. He continued through the greenery and made his way to the impressive stone building on the opposite side of the square that housed the local bank. As he neared, he rooted around his inside breast pocket and took out his scrap of paper. He wasn't intending on spending very long in the bank, in fact he really hadn't time for this at all, but he couldn't to put it off any longer. Cady would kill him. He just needed to get some cash to pay Bob so he could get the rest of the supplies to finish the job. Most people would use an ATM, but not Walt. He was a bit of a technophobe. He preferred the personal touch.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff," an elderly lady said as she passed him on the sidewalk.

"Mrs. Tobias," Walt replied with a tip of his hat and a smile.

Walt continued toward the bank. He thought he heard a scream and glanced around him, thinking the old lady may have slipped and fallen, but nothing seemed out of place so he shook it off. He was about to place his hand on the handle of the heavy glass door of the bank when it burst open, almost hitting him in the face. He stepped back as someone rushed out. He suddenly found himself standing toe to toe with a masked raider. Their eyes met and Walt was momentarily stunned. Walt saw a flicker of realization quickly followed by panic in the eyes of the gunman when he saw the star on Walt's coat. Walt was already reaching for his weapon but the gunman already had his drawn. He backed away from Walt, pointed his weapon at his face and warned;

"Don't do it, old man."

Walt hesitated. His hand hovered over his weapon. He watched as the gunman continued to back away. He appeared distracted, looking over his shoulder several times. That was when Walt saw a sedan speed around the square and screech to a halt by the sidewalk. The gunman turned towards his ride and Walt took advantage of the momentary distraction and drew his weapon. However, the gunman must have sensed the movement because he re-acted a fraction quicker and fired at Walt, hitting him high in the chest. The impact spun Walt around and he reached for the wall to stay upright. Despite the pain coursing through him, he managed to steady himself, turn and raise his arm to get off a shot. He of his own. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard the gunman grunt as he ran to the vehicle.

Across the square

"Did you hear that?" Vic asked, hearing the first shots from where she was seated at her desk by the open window.

"Sounded like gunshots," Branch replied.

She and Branch both rose from their desks simultaneously and peered out of the window of their first floor office which looked out onto the street. When the next shots came, they noticed some commotion and a car tearing around the square and knew immediately that there was some trouble at the bank.

"Walt," Vic said, remembering her boss was out there.

Branch and Vic exchanged glances. They were already leaving the office and heading down the stairs when more shots rang out.

As those shots rang around the square, Walt realized the precarious position he was in, out in the open with no cover, but there was little he could do about that. The gunman was escaping, already climbing into the car. Despite being injured, Walt followed, keeping himself as close to the walls of the buildings as he could and crouching down. He was starting to feel light-headed. Another shot rang out. Walt responded in kind, firing his Colt, the bullet smashing the rear window of the car.

The getaway car was pulling away and Walt squared his shoulders and released several more shots in its direction. The fleeing thieves responded with another volley through the open car window. Walt felt another impact and fire erupted in his thigh. This time he went down as the blow took his right leg from under him. Tires screeched as the getaway car whipped around the corner and out of sight.

Then everything went quiet. Walt lay on his side, his chest heaving. He could feel his strength slipping away. It hurt to breathe. He knew he was in trouble. His head told him to get up but he hadn't the strength. He tried to concentrate on taking shallow breaths and staying conscious.

By now, Vic and Branch were tearing across the square on foot, weapons drawn.

Henry Standing Bear was one of the few customers who had been inside the bank when the robbery occurred. He had released a sigh of relief when the raider left the building, but when he heard the shooting outside, he took cover inside with everyone else. When the shooting finally stopped, he was one of the first to emerge. He stood outside the door with a couple of other guys for a moment, making sure the coast was clear until one of them pointed to a body lying on the sidewalk.

Henry recognized the tan leather coat and his heart sank when he realized that it was his best friend lying in the dust. His hat had come off and lay close to his head. His chrome pistol had fallen from his grip and lay out of reach a couple of feet away. Most worryingly, his friend wasn't moving. Fearing the worst, Henry composed himself and did what he knew he had to.

"Walt!" he called out, running and dropping to his knees at his friend's side. He put his hand on Walt's shoulder. Walt didn't respond.

Henry rolled him over onto his back to check him for injuries. Walt groaned and tried to respond but couldn't get the words out. Blood dribbled from the side of his mouth. Henry could see the fear in his friend's eyes. Walt knew he was gravely wounded and he didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave his daughter. Henry watched in horror as his friend struggled for breath.

"Hold on, Walt. I need to see where you're hit," he said as he laid him on his back.

With one hand, Henry held his head up off the ground and checked him over with his free hand. He checked his torso first of all and discovered a growing blood stain on his pale blue shirt beneath his heavy coat. He could hear Walt's rasping breath and then noticed the blood bubbling in his throat as he tried to breathe. Henry knew enough about bullet wounds to know that Walt's lung was hit so he gently rolled his old friend onto his injured right side so that his uninjured lung could function unimpeded. Walt groaned as pain shot through him. The movement made him cough and expel the blood that was choking him onto the sidewalk.

"Sorry my friend but this will help you breathe."

As he said it, Walt's eyes rolled in his head and he lost his tenuous grip on consciousness.

"No, no, no, Walt. Please."

Henry's heart sank, thinking that he had lost him. He frantically felt his neck for a pulse and was relieved to find one, however weak.

Henry then turned his attention to the other wound in Walt's right thigh which by now was bleeding profusely. The blood was pooling on the sidewalk and Henry knew by the volume being lost that a major vessel was hit and Walt was in real danger of bleeding out.

"Give me your tie," he demanded, looking up at a nervous-looking bank clerk who was among the small group of people who had emerged from the back and gathered around.

The young banker quickly loosened his tie and handed it to Henry, who used it to tie above the wound in an attempt to slow the blood loss.

Vic and Branch arrived on the scene together and the first thing they witnessed was Henry trying to help their boss.

"Oh, my God! Walt! Walt, can you hear me?" Vic called frantically as she dropped to her knees beside him. She stroked his head, willing him to be okay. Her eyes fell on the disturbing pool of blood on the sidewalk and she felt sick.

"What the hell happened, Henry?" Branch asked, trying to take in the scene.

"The bank was robbed. I am assuming that Walt intervened," he replied. Then, without warning, he stood up and started to run away from the scene.

"Henry, where the hell are you going?" Branch yelled. "Has anyone called an ambulance?"

"To get my truck. Walt's in real trouble, Branch. He's bleeding out. We haven't time to wait for an ambulance," Henry replied. "Keep pressure on the wounds!"

Branch looked around at the group of people that were gawping and saw their concerned faces. Then he looked at Vic and finally down at Walt. There was no love lost between Branch and his boss. They'd had their disagreements, the biggest over Branch's relationship with Walt's daughter, but however strained their relationship was, he would never wish any harm to him.

He had seen Walt receive bruises and scratches in the line of duty before and had shaken them off, but Branch realized that this was no scratch. Walt's face was grey and spattered with blood. His shirt was stained crimson and his jean's leg was completely soaked. He could see that Henry wasn't exaggerating. His boss was in real trouble.

_**A/N - hope our beloved Walt getting hurt isn't too traumatic for you. Let me know what you think if you have time. This story is unbeta'd so all the mistakes are mine.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N - thank you for taking the time to read and comment. **_

Chapter 2

Branch knelt down beside Walt and took over from where Henry left off. He removed his shirt and covered Walt's leg wound with it as best he could and pressed down hard. He exchanged worried glances with Vic and noticed the tears rolling down his colleague's cheeks as she held him. He knew she and Walt had a close relationship. It didn't take a genius to see they had feelings for each other. Branch wasn't sure if they had ever acted upon those feelings, but it didn't really matter. They remained professional whenever they were on duty and Branch respected that. Vic kept talking to Walt, reassuring him, even though Branch was pretty sure he couldn't hear her.

"Hang on, Walt. Please, hold on," she pleaded emotionally.

"C'mon, Henry," Branch muttered, checking over his shoulder for the Native American bar owner.

As if on cue, Henry's truck rounded the street corner, kicking up dust, and screeched to a halt beside the gathered group. Henry jumped out and rushed to them.

"Help me get him in the back," Henry commanded, dispersing the crowd. "Quickly. Come on. Move! Someone call the hospital. Tell them we're on our way."

Branch and Vic and two bystanders each took hold of one of Walt's limbs. Henry opened the back of the truck and then turned to help them manoeuvre Walt onto the flat bed. Vic climbed in first and hauled Walt's dead weight onto the truck while Branch and the others lifted him as carefully as they could.

Vic sat with her back to the cab and supported Walt's head and shoulders against her body as Branch closed up the back of the truck.

"Go, Henry," Vic yelled, as Henry climbed into the cab and slammed the door. "Hurry."

Henry didn't need to be told twice. He knew the urgency of the situation. He spun the wheels of the truck as he floored the gas and sped away in the direction of the local hospital. Branch stood in the middle of the road, shirtless and shocked at what had just transpired. He watched as they disappeared out of sight. His heart was pounding in his chest. He wasn't exactly sure what to do next. His head told him to do his job. He should take statements from the witnesses and get a description of the thieves' getaway car, get the investigation up and running. However, his heart wanted to find Cady and tell her what had happened.

The Ferg, who was on his way back to the office with the lunch orders, noticed the commotion on the other side of the square. He saw Henry's truck speed away and then noticed his colleague standing in the middle of the road wearing only his undershirt. The Ferg dropped the bag of sandwiches on the sidewalk and ran across the square to his colleague. When he arrived on the scene he couldn't believe what was happening.

"Branch, what's going on?" he asked, looking around expecting to see the Sheriff somewhere in the midst of it all.

"Walt's been shot," Branch replied dolefully.

"What? Is he okay?" he asked, noticing the blood on Branch's hands and jeans.

"Not really," Branch replied, shaking his head and exhaling deeply.

Ferg stared at the large blood pool on the sidewalk and realized that, if that was the sheriff's blood, Branch wasn't exaggerating. There was an awful lot of it, too much. His boss could be in real trouble. As he tried to absorb the reality of what was going on, Branch snapped him out of his thoughts by getting down to business.

"Ferg, I need you to take witness statements and cordon off the area. Alert neighboring counties as soon as you get a description of the getaway vehicle. I need to contact Cady and tell her what's going on….and maybe get a new shirt," Branch explained, wiping his hands in his t-shirt.

"No problem. I've got it here. Call me when you have news on Walt," Ferg replied.

The journey to the hospital was physically uncomfortable and rough for Vic, but she didn't care. She carefully cradled her injured boss, who remained unconscious throughout the journey, and continually talked to him. She cared greatly for him, probably more than was appropriate for a married woman. She still considered herself married, even though she and Sean were now separated. She wasn't sure if she just had a crush on Walt or if her feelings were more than that, but there was love in her heart for the man that she was holding in her arms. He was a man's man, a strong yet gentle man, the sort of man she could love.

She looked down at his weathered face. He was frighteningly pale. Another tear dropped from her cheek onto his shoulder. A trail of blood trickled from his mouth as he continued to fight for each breath. She knew he was a strong. She knew he was a fighter and prayed that he had the strength to get through this. The hospital wasn't all that far from the bank, but those few minutes in the truck felt like days as Walt weakened in her arms. She gave his arm a squeeze, just to remind him that he wasn't alone.

Once the hospital was in sight she told him so, hoping it would give him the strength to hold on. His breathing had grown shallower which terrified her. His chest was barely rising now. He was slipping away before her eyes.

Henry ground the truck to an abrupt halt outside the emergency room door. He jumped out and ran inside and called for someone to help him. Luckily it was a quiet day in the ER and staff had just received the call from outside the bank to expect the emergency. They had been preparing for their arrival when Henry ran in. They responded immediately, grabbed a gurney and raced outside. Henry lowered the back end of the truck and unceremoniously dragged Walt by his boots out of the back, all the while, Vic moving with him and protecting his head. The medical staff were shocked to see who the victim was. They all recognized Walt as the sheriff who had only been at the hospital earlier that day when Mrs. Grady, the rape victim, had been brought in. They quickly sprang into action. They placed him on the gurney and hurried him inside.

Meanwhile, Branch had found a quiet spot away from the crowd. He stared at his cell phone, bracing himself to make one of the most difficult calls of his career, the call to Walt's daughter, who also happened to be his ex-girlfriend. Taking a deep breath, he hit the call button. It rang a couple of times before Cady picked up.

"Hey, Branch," Cady said upon answering. "I thought you were my dad calling with another excuse for not getting to the bank."

She sounded happy. Branch didn't know how to tell her. His voice caught in his throat.

"Branch? Are you still there?"

"Cady, something's happened," Branch started shakily. "It's your dad."

"Oh, God. What? What happened, Branch? Is he okay?"

"He's been shot, Cady," Branch started to tell her.

"No….," she said, her stomach dropping to her boots. "Is he alive?"

"He was when I last saw him. Henry and Vic took him to the hospital, but it's bad, Cady. You need to get to Durant hospital as soon as you can," Branch told her.

"I'm on my way," she said and hung up and immediately ran to her car.

Back at the hospital, Henry and Vic waited helplessly for news on Walt. The medics had whisked him away as soon as they arrived. They heard not long after that he had been taken straight to surgery. Time seemed to slow down. Almost an hour had passed. Henry sat perfectly still with his eyes closed and silently prayed to the great spirits to spare his friend and to give him strength to recover. Vic sat impatiently, her leg bouncing nervously, taking deep breaths every now and then to help quell the nausea she was feeling. She jumped with fright when her cell phone rang.

"Moretti," she answered.

"Vic, I've just heard what happened. How is he?"

It was Ruby, Walt's secretary and friend of many years. Walt had given her the morning off to attend a doctor's appointment and she was at the pharmacy when she heard the news.

"I don't know, Ruby. He was losing so much blood. They took him straight into surgery. That's all I know," Vic explained sounding frustrated.

"What can I do?" Ruby asked, anxious to help.

"I don't know, Ruby. Branch and Ferg are at the bank following up on the shooting. I'm sure they could do with you back in the office, fielding calls," Vic suggested.

"I'm on my way," Ruby replied. "And, Vic, call me as soon as you hear anything."

"I will."

By this time, Deputy Ferguson had taken everyone's statement and now had some information to follow up on. He got a description of the getaway car and the information from witnesses that the window had been shot out. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get an APB to surrounding counties. After calling Cady, Branch had interviewed the bank manager briefly and asked for security footage, which was quickly supplied. He took it back to the office.

Once there he helped himself to a clean shirt then sat and watched the security footage. There was footage from inside the bank as well as footage from an outside camera. There wasn't much he could get from it besides an approximate height of the assailant. He wore a mask which hid his identity. Footage from the external camera showed what had happened when Walt arrived at the bank. There was no sound, but it wasn't really necessary. Branch watched as the gunman tried to escape and Walt drew his weapon. With the gunman now out of shot, he saw the moment when Walt was first hit, how he staggered slightly, but regained his composure quickly enough to get more shots off. It was difficult to watch. Then came the moment when he went down. It was disturbing to say the least, to see the normally indestructible sheriff topple and worse still, to see him not even attempt to get back up.

Branch rewound the footage to find the clearest shot of the gunman. He took a screen shot of the masked gunman and despite being unable to identify him he swore that he would get him, for Walt. He owed Walt his life after all. It wasn't that long ago that Branch himself had received serious gunshot wounds and it had been his boss who had come to his rescue and ultimately saved his life. He would never admit it to his face, but he owed him. And whatever their differences, such debts would be repaid.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Cady Longmire entered the Emergency Room of the local hospital, out of breath and in a fluster. She was clearly stressed and overwrought when she reached the reception desk.

"My father was brought in. Sheriff Longmire. Can you tell me where he is?" she asked, barely able to get the words out.

"He's in surgery at the moment, Miss Longmire," the nurse at the desk told her without having to refer to her records. His shooting was the talk of the hospital. "His friends are waiting down the hall," she told her, pointing towards where they sat.

"Thank you," Cady said, hurrying down the corridor.

She saw Henry and Vic sitting in an open waiting area, looking solemn.

"Henry," she said, as she approached. "Vic. What happened? How is he?"

"Cady," Henry said getting to his feet and putting his arms around her. This one kind action was the final straw and the dam broke and Cady's emotions flooded forth. She sobbed uncontrollably.

Henry guided her to one of the chairs lined along the wall. Her moist eyes pleaded with him for information.

"Your father is in surgery," he told her. "We don't know much more other than that at the moment."

"How bad is it, Henry? Branch said it was serious," Cady told him.

"He was shot once in the chest and once in the leg. He had lost a lot of blood by the time we got him here. I won't lie, Cady, it is serious," Henry told her, realizing there was no point trying to shield her from the truth.

"Oh, God, Henry. I can't lose him too."

Henry put his arms around her once more and pulled her close. Cady sobbed for a while as her dad's best friend held her. When she managed to regain her composure, she looked over to Vic who was just sitting there very quietly, hardly taking in the emotional scenes beside her. She was just staring at the floor, barely aware of the emotional scenes only feet away. Cady had already noticed some dried blood on Henry's hands and now became acutely aware of the dark stains on Vic's uniform. Suddenly she felt sick.

"That's his? That's his blood?" she asked, a look of horror on her face.

Vic looked at Cady and then down at her clothing, only then realizing that she was covered in Walt's blood.

"Oh, Cady, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to see this. I'll go. I'm sorry," Vic said, embarrassed that she hadn't considered how seeing someone covered in Walt's blood would make Cady feel. She stood up to leave.

"No, Vic, it's okay. Don't go," Cady said approaching Vic. "Thank you. Thank you both for helping him."

Vic awkwardly accepted a hug of gratitude from Cady.

"I really should get back to the office anyway," Vic said, feeling useless and a little uncomfortable. "Walt would want us to get these guys. Promise to call me as soon as there's any word."

"I will. Go and find whoever did this," Henry said as Vic turned to leave.

With an ache in her heart, Vic left the hospital. She called the Ferg who agreed to come and pick her up. Once she got outside of the hospital building and away for prying eyes, Vic allowed herself a moment. She had held it in for as long as she could, but she had to let go of the emotion. Tears streamed down her face. Once she had released it, she felt so much better. She quickly composed herself, not wanting her colleague to see her in such a fragile state.

Ferg pulled up in the sheriff's department truck a few minutes later and she climbed in. He observed her blood-stained shirt and jeans and the redness of her eyes. He immediately asked after Walt and Vic explained the situation. Then he told her that the sheriff's department in the next county over had just called and that they had found the shot up car they had been looking for. It was located at a rest stop where they had also received a report of another stolen vehicle. Now they had an exact description of the car the culprits were driving. The net was already starting to close in on the bank robbers.

There was also, reportedly, blood stains on the passenger seat of the car. It looked like Walt had managed to hit one of them. From the direction they were travelling it looked like they were heading towards Montana. They wouldn't get far. Highway Patrol were on the alert for the vehicle.

Meanwhile, back at the office, Branch received a call from the FBI who had picked up about the bank robbery and the shooting of a local sheriff on the police bands. They told Branch that they would be sending a team to head the investigation as the perpetrators had crossed state lines and that they would be grateful for his cooperation. Branch, though unimpressed at being usurped, told them that he would do what he could to accommodate them. Making life difficult for the Feds would only hamper the investigation and what was important was that whoever did this was caught and punished.

Anyway, Branch also had another case on his plate. Walt would want the department to continue the investigation of the attack on Mrs. Grady. Unfortunately, Walt hadn't left much detail on the case. He wasn't one for note taking. He had only started writing up a report which was on his desk before he took his ill-fated trip to the bank. There wasn't much in it. Branch was going to have to start from scratch.

He decided he would have to talk to Mrs. Grady and her family first. He knew they would be at the hospital and was glad of the excuse to check on Walt's condition. He was leaving the office when Vic and the Ferg arrived back.

"How's he doing?" Branch asked immediately.

"Damned if I know," Vic replied curtly as she brushed past him to reach her desk. "Sorry," she said, realizing she had snapped unnecessarily. "He's in surgery and I just haven't heard anything yet."

"It's okay. I'm heading over there anyway. I thought we should continue the Grady investigation," Branch told her.

"Really? What about the Longmire investigation? Isn't catching the animal who shot your boss important enough for you?" Vic asked. "Of course not. You couldn't give a shit about Walt. A nice job vacancy coming up for you if he doesn't make it."

"Woah! Hold on a minute," Branch said, defending himself. "That's not true and you know it. The Feds are stepping in on this. The armed robbery made this a federal case. So rather than sit here with my thumb up my ass, I thought I'd do what Walt would want me to do and step up and get the job done," he told her defensively. "Maybe you should ask yourself why you're going to pieces over him. He is just your boss, right?" Branch asked, getting in a good dig.

Vic practically growled at him.

"I need to change," she said, pushing past Branch once more.

She rushed into the Reading Room and slammed the door shut. There was a sink, a mirror and a stock of fresh uniforms inside. She ran the faucet and splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes filled with tears once more.

Branch's comment had touched a nerve with Vic. He raised a valid point, something she had been avoiding dealing with. Was Walt just her boss or was he more than that? Nothing had ever happened between them. He was good to her and she to him. He had never crossed the line of professionalism and that frustrated her a bit. He knew her marriage was crumbling. She had talked a little to him about it, but he never gave her advice or interfered. She guessed that he didn't want to be dragged into the whole mess. It was completely understandable. He was an honorable man and would never get between another man and his wife.

While she had never thrown herself at him, she had dropped hints on occasion that he was her type. But she never knew if he understood or if, like most men, it went completely over his head. They shared some fleeting moments and Vic was convinced that there was a spark but frustratingly, nothing intimate ever ensued.

But seeing him lying there bleeding earlier that day rammed it home to her in no uncertain fashion. She loved him. She could deny it all she wanted, but that's how it was. Now she was even more confused.

She was so angry that this had happened. Walt didn't deserve this. He had been through so much these last few years after losing his wife. Maybe she had this all wrong. Maybe Walt didn't have feelings for her. She had heard so much about Walt's wife and about how good they were together. How could she compete with that? She decided not to try. All that mattered now was that Walt got better. Anything else was a bonus.

She stayed another while in Reading Room, changed her shirt and gathered her composure

By the time she emerged, Branch had left for the hospital and Ferg was at his desk, talking on the phone. Not long after, Ruby arrived at the office. She was visibly upset, but ready to pitch in and get to work. The phones were ringing non-stop with people either anxious to help or looking for information on the sheriff's condition. Walt was a well-respected and much loved member of the Durant community. If it wasn't locals calling to see how he was, it was other law enforcement agencies with information and updates. It was vital that these calls were answered.

Branch arrived at the hospital and found Cady and Henry without any difficulty. They were still seated in the waiting area looking anxious.

"Still no news?" he asked as he approached, hat in hand.

Henry shook his head. Cady got to her feet and hugged the handsome deputy, her former lover.

"He's strong, Cady. If anyone can get through this, Walt can," he said offering a mandatory morsel of comfort.

"I hope so," she said, wanting desperately to believe it.

"The Feds are looking for the guys who shot him. They have jurisdiction on this. So I thought I'd take over from Walt on the Molly Grady attack," Branch told them. "Walt brought her in here this morning and I know he'd want me to follow up."

"Absolutely. Go, do what you have to," Cady said, releasing him from her grasp. "I'll call you as soon as I hear anything."

She kissed him on the cheek before he turned and left. She settled back beside Henry for another stomach churning wait.

Branch asked at the nurse station about Mrs. Grady. He was directed to the ICU where she remained unconscious. He entered the room which was occupied by the patient and her son, who maintained a vigil by her bedside. When Branch saw him, his heart went out to him. The kid was barely fifteen. He looked desperately scared and alone.

"Hi, I'm Deputy Branch Connally," he said, shaking the boy's hand.

"Mark Grady. Did you find the guy who did this?" he asked eagerly.

"No, not yet, Mark," Branch replied.

"The sheriff promised me he'd get him," Mark told him, his youthful innocence peeping through.

"I know he did," Branch replied. "And if he could he would. You obviously haven't heard, Mark, but Sheriff Longmire was shot this afternoon. He's undergoing surgery in this hospital at the moment."

"Really? Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Is he going to be okay?"

"I hope so," Branch replied. "So, Mark, is there anyone I can call for you?" Branch enquired.

"No, thanks. The sheriff called my dad earlier. He's a long haul truck driver. He should be here in a couple more hours."

"Okay, good. And how is your Mom doing?" Branch asked, looking over at the bruised and swollen face of the woman in the bed.

"Not so good. She took a bad knock to the head and the doctors don't know when she'll wake up," Mark told him.

"Did you see or hear anything this morning that was odd or out of the ordinary?" Branch asked.

"I told the sheriff earlier. The horses were a bit restless last night, but they get like that sometimes if there's a coyote about. Mom was first up this morning as usual. She usually calls me before my alarm, but this morning my alarm woke me and when I got downstairs there was no sign of her. I called out. She didn't answer. Then I went outside, checked the barn and I found her, like that," he said, gesturing to the bed.

"And did you notice anything out of place in the barn?" Branch asked.

"There was a couple of beer cans and empty bag of jerky in one corner. Sheriff Longmire said it looked like someone had slept there. He thought that whoever it was probably was on foot because there were no tire tracks around the place."

"Okay. It's something to go on at least. I'm going to talk to the doctors now so I'll leave you and check in on you later," Branch said, giving the boy's shoulder a light squeeze of solidarity.

Branch found Mrs. Grady's doctor fairly quickly. He needed to find out if they had taken a rape kit from the victim when she was admitted. He was relieved to discover that they had and that it had already been sent for testing. He left his contact details and asked to be called when the results were available. The doctor was not able to tell him when Mrs. Grady might wake though. He explained that with head injuries, it was unpredictable. He promised to contact Deputy Connally if there was any change in her condition.

It turned out to be an excruciatingly long wait for Cady and Henry. Hours passed slowly. Hospital staff changed as the day shift filtered home and the night shift began and still they waited. Cady watched intently as a nurse emerged from the OR and returned shortly afterwards trying, and failing, to be discreet as she carried extra units of blood back into the operating theatre. Cady took both good and bad omens from what she witnessed. The need for more blood meant that at least her dad was still alive. But it could also mean that he was bleeding uncontrollably and they were struggling to stabilize him.

"I've lived with the risks of his job every day of my life," Cady told Henry, "but I never thought he'd die just running an errand."

"He is not going to die," Henry replied vehemently. He could not allow her to think like that. He could not allow himself to think like that.

Cady hoped he was right. She joined her hands and hung her head in silent prayer, begging for her father to be spared.

Eventually, by late evening, a sullen-looking surgeon emerged through the operating theatre doors. Cady recognized him as Dr. Weston, who had treated her when she had been injured by a car earlier in the year. She nudged Henry who had started dozing in the seat beside her. He jumped to his feet. The doctor walked slowly towards them, his eyes focused on the tiled floor. He wasn't looking at them. That couldn't be a good sign, Henry thought. Cady stood slowly, unsure if her legs could hold her, and prepared herself for the worst.

"Ms. Longmire," Dr. Weston said, as he reached them. "Henry. It was touch and go for a long while, but the sheriff has made it through surgery."

Cady let out the breath she had been holding and threw her arms around Henry. They celebrated briefly until the doctor began to explain how the surgery had gone.

"When he got to theatre we struggled to stabilize him initially. He was losing blood quicker than we could transfuse it. He suffered a cardiac arrest not long after he arrived, but luckily we got him back and were eventually able to stabilize him. The wound to his leg proved to be the more critical of the two injuries. I carried out an arterial repair and restored blood flow to his lower limb. It's still early days, but it looks like circulation is good. After that I removed the bullet from his lung. His condition is still serious, he's very weak, but he's proved that he's the fighter I've known him to be and I'm very hopeful of a positive outcome," the doctor explained.

"Can I see him?" Cady asked.

"Of course. They're just settling him in to the ICU. I'll send someone for you when they've finished," he said, smiling kindly.

"Thank you, Doctor," Henry said, shaking his hand.

He turned and put his arm around Cady's shoulder as the doctor walked away.

"I knew he would pull through," Henry said, smiling.

"Sure you did. You were as worried as I was," Cady replied, trying to return his smile.

"He is not ready to leave yet, Cady. He has too much left to do," Henry replied enigmatically.

"Well, I'm just glad he's okay," Cady said, sitting back down. "Henry, would you mind letting his deputies know?"

"Of course not. I'll go and make some calls," Henry agreed.

Henry walked out through the main door and made the calls on his cell phone. Cady was alone when a middle-aged nurse came to fetch her. She escorted her to her father's room. When she entered, Cady was taken aback by the sight of her normally imposing father lying there looking so vulnerable and so ill. The nurse noticed her reaction.

"He's doing okay," she said, trying to reassure her. "The monitors are just keeping an eye on his heart rate and BP and that tube there is draining any residual blood from his chest. The doctor wants to keep him intubated and under sedation for a while to keep him quiet and avoid further injury and give his body time to heal. Doctor Weston said he knows your father well and knows he'll be wanting to get out of here as soon as he wakes," she told her.

"Oh, that's true. My dad's stubborn like that," Cady replied, approaching the bed and taking her father's hand.

The nurse brought a chair over so Cady could sit with him.

"If you need anything, just call," she said before leaving the room. "I'll be in and out, keeping an eye on him all through the night. Don't worry. He's doing fine."

"Thank you."

When she was finally alone with her father Cady relaxed a little and began talking to him.

"Oh, Daddy, you really scared me," she said, kissing the back of his hand. "I need you to stay strong and get better. You're all I have in this world."

She continued to cling to his hand and willed him to pull through.

TBC -

A/N - thanks to everyone who reviewed got in touch. Hope this chapter isn't too angsty. More to come.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Meanwhile, back at the Sheriff's Office, the phone call from Henry came through. Ruby answered and signaled to the others to be quiet. The office fell silent. Her face was grim as she listened intently as Henry updated her on Walt's condition. Her expression softened to a smile. She thanked Henry and then with great relief she turned and disseminated the news to the rest of the team.

"He made it through the surgery. Henry said his condition is still serious but he's stable," Ruby told them.

"Oh, thank God," Vic said, flopping back into her seat and running both her hands over her hair as relief washed over her.

The Ferg and Branch were also delighted to hear the news. All Vic wanted to do was to get back to the hospital and see her Walt. Ruby desperately wanted to see him also, so the pair left the office soon after the call, leaving the Ferg and Branch holding the fort and waiting for the Feds to arrive.

Having made the necessary calls, Henry re-entered the hospital and found Walt's room. He slipped in quietly and was momentarily taken aback seeing his old friend looking so frail amid a plethora of wires and tubes. He had seen Walt injured many times, during their time in Vietnam and throughout his stint in law enforcement, but this was his closest shave so far.

Cady clung to her dad's limp hand like both their lives depended on it. Her eyes were fixed on his face, desperate for him to wake. Walt looked a shadow of himself. His pallor was frighteningly grey. A light sheet barely hid an ugly looking tube poking through the wall of his chest draining blood from the injured area. His chest rose in time to the rhythm of the respirator. A large gauze bandage, which covered the surgical incision in his upper chest, remained visible above the sheet. Blood products flowed into an IV in his arm, replacing the vast amount he had lost through his injury and the surgery. It all served as a reminder to Henry just how lucky he was that his friend was still alive.

He stepped in behind Cady and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. He said nothing, just wanted to let her know that he was there.

"The nurse said he's doing as well as can be expected," she told him. Her voice shook as she spoke all the while clinging to her father's hand.

"He is strong, Cady," Henry reminded her. "If anyone can get through this, Walt can."

Cady sniffed and nodded her head in agreement and reached her free hand back to rest on his. They remained in silence for a while.

"This is my fault, you know, Henry. If I hadn't badgered him into going to the bank, he would never have been there. This wouldn't have happened," Cady told him biting back the tears.

"You cannot think like that, Cady. This is not your fault," Henry replied. "Walt was unlucky, that is all. You could not know this would happen."

"I nearly lost him, Henry. I don't know what I would have done," Cady said pensively. "He's all I have, Henry."

"He is not all that you have, Cady Longmire. You have more people who care about you than you realize," he told her.

Cady smiled, knowing that he was probably right. Henry was practically family and had always been there for her and her father. They remained in the tiny room together for a while. The nurse, true to her word, kept regular obs on her dad. His condition remained stable. Eventually, as late night fell, Henry had to leave for a while to get to the Red Pony to check on things and let some staff go home, leaving Cady alone with her dad.

As he was leaving, he came upon Ruby and Vic sitting outside in the waiting area.

"He is doing well," Henry told them. "Cady is still with him."

"Do you think we could see him?" Ruby asked.

"I'm sure you could sneak in," Henry replied. "Down the corridor, fourth door on the right."

The pair thanked him and immediately stood and followed his directions. Ruby knocked and opened the door slowly. Cady turned and greeted her fondly and invited her in. Vic stepped in behind her.

"Cady, Sweetie, I can't believe this happened," Ruby said as she entered.

Cady stood and threw her arms around Ruby. They hugged silently for a while. Ruby had been so good to both her and her dad following the death of her mother. She had known Ruby for long time, since she was a girl, and Ruby had been a good friend to both her father and her mother. Ever since her Mom passed away, she was always looking out for her dad, trying to keep him out of trouble, making sure he ate proper meals, even down to offering suggestions on his attire, much to Walt's annoyance. Cady knew how upset she must be by what had happened and was glad that she was there. She was family too. Slowly, they extricated themselves from their hug.

Ruby stood back and looked properly for the first time at Walt. She, too, was taken aback by how ill he looked. She took a deep breath and approached the bed where he lay.

"Walter Longmire, I take a few hours off and look at the trouble you get yourself into," she scolded, placing her hand affectionately on his bicep and squeezing gently. "This was a close one, Walt. You're going to have to listen to the doctors and take it easy and get better, do you hear me? We don't want Branch getting too comfortable with you not there."

As Ruby spoke to Walt, Vic and Cady exchanged a quick hug.

"You must be exhausted," Vic said to her, noticing her puffy eyes.

Cady smiled and wiped her forehead.

"I'm fine."

"You should try and get some rest," Vic suggested. "I'll sit with him if you like?"

Please say yes, Vic wished silently.

"Eh, no, it's fine. I'd rather be here…..you know, just in case," Cady replied.

"Vic is right, Cady," Ruby interjected. "You come home with me and I'll make you some supper and you can get some sleep. There's no point in you making yourself ill. He's going to need you strong while he recovers."

Cady sighed. She looked over at her dad who was oblivious to anyone's presence in the room. Deep down, she knew Ruby was right.

"Okay," she agreed. "Promise me you'll stay with him?" she asked Vic.

Vic nodded. She was more than happy to stay with him. There was no where she would rather be, if truth be known.

"Okay then," Cady said, preparing to leave. "You have my cell number in case anything changes?"

"I have it," Vic replied. "Don't worry. If there's any change in his condition, I'll call you straight away."

Cady walked over to her dad. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll be back soon, Daddy. Love you," she whispered as she withdrew.

Vic and Ruby's eyes met. Ruby nodded and Vic smiled back.

"Are you sure you don't mind staying?" Cady asked, feeling guilty about leaving her dad's side.

"Not at all," Vic replied.

"What about Sean?" Cady asked.

Vic hesitated slightly. What about Sean? She was pretty sure he must have heard about Walt's shooting. It had been all over the local news bulletins, yet he hadn't called her once all day. Vic's feelings for Walt had always been a bone of contention between them and she was pretty sure Sean didn't give a damn anymore. He had made it clear there was no way back for their relationship. They were married on paper only.

"Don't worry about Sean," Vic replied, choosing not to divulge her marital troubles at that moment. "He's out of town," she lied.

"Thanks, Vic," Cady said one more time before eventually being almost pushed out of the room by Ruby.

Vic was relieved by the time they left. She lingered awkwardly at the foot of Walt's bed for a few moments before taking the seat Cady had vacated. She sat forward, rested her elbows on the edge of the bed, held her head in her hands and let the stress of the day wash over her once more. She looked at Walt who remained so still in the bed. She glanced at the monitor beside the bed and watched it peak with every heartbeat,

It offered her some comfort to hear the beating of his heart after the stress of the day. Her mind slipped back to earlier that afternoon, to seeing him bleeding on the sidewalk, holding his weakening body in her arms on the jarring journey to the hospital, the fear of not knowing as she waited to hear if he had survived. She bit her top lip as her emotions threatened to take hold once more.

She stood up slowly and stepped closer to his head. She reached out and touched his rough face with her fingers. Softly, she drew her hand over his stubble from his jowl to his chin. She allowed her hand to linger on his face, until she finally leaned across and gently placed a kiss his cheek.

She didn't speak. There were no words. She just sat back down and rested her hand on his. She willed him to wake up. She willed him to recover. Life without him was not worth contemplating.

Later, as the nurse came in to do her checks on her patient, Vic quickly removed her hand from his. She felt self-conscious, even guilty for feeling the way she did. It was way too complicated and in a small town like Durant, complicated quickly became warped and sordid and then before you knew it, fodder for the rumor mill.

As the night progressed, Vic tried to sleep sitting in the chair. It wasn't very comfortable and sleep didn't come easy. She eventually found comfort, curled up on the chair and resting her head on the edge of the bed. That's how she was lying when the monitor alarm first went off. She shot up and looked around, initially disoriented. She pushed the chair away and was about to push the emergency call button when the nurse burst in.

"What's wrong?" Vic asked, panic rising in her chest.

The nurse checked the monitor and noted the figures on the screen.

"His O2 sats have dropped," she told Vic as she examined the monitor from which the alarm was sounding.

"What does that mean?" Vic demanded as panic gripped her.

"He's not getting enough oxygen. I'll page the on-call doctor and get him to check it out," the nurse told her calmly. "There's no need to panic. I'll just see what the doctor thinks."

"Okay, should I call his daughter in?" Vic enquired anxiously.

"No need to do that just yet. We'll see how he goes on a richer mixture and see if he improves," the nurse explained. "I'll be back shortly."

After she left the room, Vic approached the bed again and took hold of Walt's hand.

"What the fuck, Walt? Don't do this," she warned sternly. "You need to fight, okay? I can't lose you, Walt. Don't you give up, not now, not …."

She didn't finish because she heard voices approaching in the corridor. The nurse returned bringing a junior doctor in tow. Vic couldn't hide the look of concern on her face when the nurse stepped back to allow this kid access to the sheriff.

The doctor listened to Walt's chest and then his heart. He took a look at his chart, made some notes.

"There's fluid in his right lung," he announced, as he lifted the sheet to check the chest drain. "I can't be sure but I suspect there's a blockage. We need to check the tube and maybe remove it and insert another."

"What does that mean?" Vic asked anxiously. "Is it serious?"

"It's okay, just a minor complication. We can have it solved very quickly though you will have to step outside as we prepare to move him back to the OR," the doctor told her.

Vic turned and glanced at Walt. She walked over and stroked his hair. She leaned down and whispered to him that she would be back. Then she vacated the room to allow the medics do what they had to do. Not long afterwards, they emerged, wheeling Walt down the corridor to the OR. She returned to his room and waited nervously.

She thought about calling Cady, but having considered what the doctor had told her, she decided to wait a little and see how the procedure went. As it turned out, it went fine. Walt was back in the room thirty minutes after he left.

"Is he okay?" Vic asked as they settled him back in.

"He'll be fine. As suspected, there was a blockage so we replaced the tube and its doing its job," the doctor told her. "His sats have come back up and everything looks good."

"Thank you," Vic said with a sigh of relief.

She was grateful when everyone left the room and it was just her and Walt once more. She settled back into the chair beside him. She rested her head on the back of his hand and quickly fell asleep. She never budged until a hand touched her shoulder early the next morning and she woke with a start.

"Walt?" she said sitting up bolt straight.

"No, sorry, Vic. It's just me."

It was Cady, Walt's daughter, smiling down at her.

"Cady? What time is it?" Vic asked groggily.

"Almost 5.30," she replied. "I couldn't really sleep," she explained. "Any change?"

Vic looked up at the monitor and then back to Walt's face. He seemed comfortable.

"Not really," Vic replied. "They had to change his chest drain a few hours ago, but other than that he seems fine."

"Thank you so much for staying with him. It helped knowing there was someone with him who loves him as much as I do," Cady said, smiling at Vic.

"What?" Vic asked, stunned at Cady's use of the "L" word.

"Look, Vic, I don't know if there's something going on….," Cady started to say before Vic interrupted.

"There's nothing going on," she retorted adamantly.

"Okay, I believe you," Cady said reassuring her. "I was just going to say that if there was something going on or if something was going to happen in the future, I wouldn't mind. I've seen the way you look at him, the way you take care of him and the way you stand up to him. It's sweet and it reminds me that he needs someone to care for him in a way that I can't."

"I do care for him, Cady," Vic said, looking over at him. "I do, but I don't think..." Vic tried to find the words to explain their complex relationship.

"I know my dad. He's probably oblivious to how much you care about him. You're married and he's honorable to a fault. He can't see what's straight in front of him sometimes. You should tell him," Cady advised.

"Oh, I don't know, Cady. We work together and all and I don't think the idea of us as a couple would go down so well with the voters around here," Vic told her.

"You might be surprised," Cady replied. "Look, I don't mean to pry, but I get the impression you and Sean aren't working out?"

"You could say that. I'm pretty sure we're over," she said with a sigh. "He wants to move to Australia. I don't."

"I'm sorry," Cady said genuinely. "If you ever need to talk..."

"Thanks," Vic replied. "I just might."

Vic blushed and smiled, feeling a little awkward talking to Walt's daughter this way.

"I really should go, you know, work and all," Vic said, gathering up her things. "I'll call you later to see how he is."

"Thanks again," Cady said, smiling to herself at Vic's embarrassment.

TBC ****

**_A/N - please excuse my lack of medical knowledge. I'm winging it here. Hope it makes sense. _**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Later that morning, the hospital quickly came to life. Cady continued her vigil by her father's side, his condition remaining unchanged. Branch was one of the first to call to check on him that morning. His morning had started before dawn. He had just finished a breakfast meeting with the FBI Agent in Charge, Agent Mason, who had arrived in town during the night. He updated Branch on the state of their investigation. Branch was anxious to share the latest with Cady.

A body had been found near a rest stop outside Fairview, Montana. It was a young male in his late teens with a gunshot wound to his upper arm. Initial reports suggest an artery had been hit and he had bled out from the untreated wound. Until they tested Walt's gun, they couldn't be 100% sure it was the same guy that Walt winged, but they were pretty confident it was him. The FBI had alerts at the Canadian Border and also state wide alerts in Montana and North Dakota as well as Wyoming for the other person involved.

Cady didn't react to the news as Branch had expected. He thought she might be at least a little glad that the person who had hurt her father had paid the ultimate price for what he did.

"It doesn't really change anything, Branch," Cady told him, turning her attention back to the prone figure in the bed beside her. "My dad is still lying here, fighting for his life. The fact that the kid who did this is dead doesn't make me feel any better. It's just another wasted life, sad really."

He understood why she thought that way. She was a kind and gentle soul, but Branch was glad that the little punk who put two bullets in his boss had paid the ultimate price. The sheriff had made him pay without even knowing it.

Branch knew he had a busy day ahead of him so he made his excuses to Cady and left her as he found her, by her father's side.

He had arranged with Henry to take their horses out to the Grady homestead and try track the guy who attacked Mrs. Grady. Walt would want him to find the animal who beat on the defenseless woman. The Ferg and Ruby would hold the fort at the office during the morning and Vic would come in later in the afternoon, once she got a few hours sleep. Branch met Henry at the Red Pony and they hitched the horse trailer to Henry's truck and hauled it to the Grady property. There was no one home. They were probably still at the hospital.

They unloaded their horses from the trailer, saddled them up and mounted in relative silence. The conversation had been light on the drive to the property. Henry recalled the last time that he had ridden with Branch. It had been to search for Walt a few years ago after he had gone into the mountains on foot in a snow storm looking for an escaped convict. He had almost died from exposure on that occasion. They found him just in time. At least this time they knew where he was and that he was getting the best possible treatment. This time they were on the hunt for someone else.

Henry had agreed to help Branch out of a sense of duty more than as a favour. Walt would have inevitably asked for his assistance tracking if he had continued investigating this crime, so Henry decided not to make it difficult for Branch. In fact, he admired him, much as it pained him to admit it. He admired the fact that Branch stood up and took over from where Walt had left off. He knew it was what Walt would have wanted under the circumstances.

They had found a trail of boot prints leading away from the barn and heading out towards the meadow on the Grady farm. They followed, heading east. If they continued in that direction, they would find themselves heading into the mountains. With Henry tracking through the tall grass, they soon found themselves starting up into the foothills of the Big Horn Mountains. It was slow progress but they had a definite trail. Hopefully, they could find the perpetrator of this horrendous crime.

All through that day, a parade of people arrived at the hospital to see how Walt was doing. Most were locals who were friends of the family, but no one was allowed in to see him as it was hospital policy of family only in the ICU. However, Cady, ever gracious and appreciative of everyone who called by, made a point of leaving her father's bedside to greet them. The nurse usually tipped her off. The townspeople were very kind and considerate. They brought cards and gifts. Some offered to check on her dad's house, to look after his horse, small kindnesses that meant so much to Cady.

Vic came by again early that afternoon before starting her shift at the office, as did Ruby. Much to Cady's surprise, even Mathias, from the Tribal Police, called by. He and Walt always had a rocky relationship from what she gathered, but he had only kind words and prayers to offer his counterpart's daughter as she continued her vigil at his bedside.

Dr. Weston was on duty that day and he dropped in regularly to check on Walt's condition. He seemed happy that her dad was holding his own and had a good night. His BP was stable and his breathing had much improved. He explained that he would be removing the breathing tube as her dad no longer needed the aid of the respirator. As he did so, he informed Cady that he would also hold off on the sedation at this stage and try wake him up. This brought a smile to Cady's face. The thought of talking to her dad, of hearing him call her "punk" again made her so happy.

She thanked the doctor and when he left, she resumed her station at her father's side. The rest of the day passed agonizingly slowly.

Meanwhile, Henry and Branch continued along a well-worn trail through the trees, leading higher up into the mountain. It was getting progressively steeper and the terrain was growing rougher. Occasionally one of the horses would stumble as the loose rocks slipped under his hooves. They had been in the saddle for almost three hours when, without warning, Henry, who was leading the trek, raised his hand, signalling for Branch to stop. Branch did so.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"The trail stops here. It looks like he went up there," Henry said, pointing to a steep incline which led to a rocky ledge. "We should continue on foot," he suggested as he dismounted.

Branch followed suit. He tied his horse's reins to the branch of a tree on the trail. He took his rifle from his saddle bag. Henry did likewise.

"I believe there are some small caves up ahead. He could be hiding out in one of them. We need to be careful. He will see us before we see him," Henry warned.

Branch nodded in agreement as he started up the incline. The loose stones underfoot make for dangerous climbing conditions, but they continued on.

"Do you know if this man is armed?" Henry asked as they climbed.

"We've no way of knowing," Branch replied. "We'll have to assume he is."

"It would be wise," Henry commented.

Their conversation ended there. They reached a plateau which extended back maybe fifteen feet until it met the jagged rock face. They were in the open and were sitting ducks if their suspect had a weapon trained on them. Henry raised his rifle. Branch unclipped his holster and withdrew his weapon. Henry knelt down on one knee and observed a disturbance in the dirt. He signaled to Branch to go to the first of the caves.

They continued on with stealth. Branch stood to one side of the entrance to the cave and put his finger to his lip for Henry to remain quiet. They both listened. There was a sound coming from the cave. It sounded like growling or ragged breathing. Henry was the first to step into the mouth of the cave. The noise suddenly turned to a roar and a large form charged at Henry.

For a second, Henry thought it was an animal and brought up his rifle to fire. But he was stunned to see it was a man, a ragged, bearded, bellowing man. Somehow amid the ensuing chaos, it registered with Henry that the man was unarmed and Henry was not the sort to shoot an unarmed man. Before he had time to react, the man was upon him and he found himself being propelled backwards in the direction of the slope they had just climbed.

Branch reacted to what was happening and trained his weapon on the two men, but he couldn't risk taking a shot for fear of hitting Henry. He was soon regretting his lack of action as the two men tumbled off the plateau and rolled down the steep incline. Branch ran after them, hoping to help Henry. He watched as the two men came to a crunching stop as they bundled into the trunk of a pine tree.

Henry was momentarily stunned and didn't move immediately. However, the feral-looking man quickly got up and tried to make a run for it. He was heading towards their horses when a single shot rang out and he pitched forward. Branch tripped down the rest of the incline and reached the downed man. He continued to struggle despite his wound. Branch easily subdued him by laying him on his stomach and secured him with handcuffs.

"Henry? Are you alright?" Branch yelled back up towards where the Cheyenne lay.

"I will be," he replied, sounding winded and sore.

Henry started to get to his feet gingerly. A sharp pain shot through his wrist and arm when he tried to use it to help him get up. He realized from the malformation of the bone in his lower arm that he had broken his wrist. He cradled his injured limb with this other hand and stumbled down the rest of the slope to where Branch and his prisoner waited. Branch looked at the bar owner, taking in his newly acquired injuries. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye and scratches on his face from the fall. He noted his stiffened posture and how he held his arm.

"Is it broken?" he asked.

"I am pretty sure it is," Henry replied.

"Will you be able to ride?"

"Of course," Henry replied with a hint of a grin. "I am Cheyenne."

Branch laughed the Indian with the wry smile.

"What will we do with this guy?" Branch asked, kicking the cuffed man on his boots.

"You shot him," Henry pointed out. "First, I think you should stop the bleeding."

Branch looked down at the soiled, reeking individual and did not like Henry's suggestion one bit. He certainly didn't want to have to touch this dude. But he knew Henry was right. He couldn't let him bleed out on the mountain, no matter what he had done.

"There is a first aid kit in my bag," Henry told him.

Branch found the kit and opened it up. He handed Henry an antiseptic wipe and a gauze pad.

"Use that on your cut," he advised.

Branch knelt down to the guy he had shot.

"So, do you have a name?" he asked. He got no reply. He pressed the issue. "I said, what's your name?"

The guy just growled like an animal and wriggled to try and shake Branch off him.

"Suit yourself," Branch said, ripping the guys manky shirt to reveal a wound in the back of his shoulder. "Bullet went through," he commented as he poured a little antiseptic onto the wound. His prisoner cried in pain, but Branch continued on. He pressed the gauze onto the wound and taped it. He then rolled the guy onto his front and did the same. He looked into the guys face as he was doing so, and realized that he was younger than he first though. If you removed the shaggy beard and cleaned him up, Branch guessed that he was not much older than himself.

He left the guy lying on his stomach on the ground and turned to Henry who was trying to clean his face up. Branch looked around at the trees and found what he needed. He broke off a branch and then snapped it in two.

"Show me your arm," he said to Henry. "We need to stabilize that break before we head down the mountain."

Henry wanted to tell him it would be fine, but the pain was excruciating so he allowed Branch to take a look. Branch placed the two small branches either side of the injured limb and, using a roll of bandage, he fashioned a crude but effective splint. Henry was grateful for the slight relief it gave him. His ribs on his left side would give a twinge of pain every so often, but he didn't mention it to Branch. There was no point as there was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Branch returned his attention to their prisoner.

"Get up," Branch ordered, pulling the injured guy to his feet. It wasn't going to be easy, but he had to get his guy on a horse.

The nameless guy resisted, but he was weakening from his injury so it didn't take long for Branch to get the upper hand. He eventually managed to push him onto the horse with a little help from Henry. He then assisted Henry to mount also. Branch noticed how he grimaced with the effort and sensed that he was hurting more than he let on. Branch led his horse, with the prisoner in the saddle, down the trail they had taken earlier. Henry followed closely behind. As he walked, Branch called the office on his cell phone. He informed Ruby what had happened and asked that they be met by and ambulance and another deputy at Grady's farm.

It was going to take more than a couple of hours on foot and they were losing light, but Branch continued in the direction home. They plodded onwards, Branch regretting not bringing an extra horse as his feet began to hurt from walking on the rough ground.

He noticed that the prisoner was starting to slump forward onto the horse's neck. He was human after all, Branch realized. He was weak from blood loss and probably in a great deal of pain. Branch stopped the horse and reached into the saddle bag and offered him water. The guy accepted and drank only a few sips. Branch quickly checked the wounds in case he was losing a lot of blood, but he was happy that the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

Henry found the ride uncomfortable as the motion of the horse's stride jolted his tender ribs. But he had to stick it out and get down the mountain. That had to be their priority before darkness fell.

TBC

_A/N - apologies for this delay with this chapter. Need to get busy this weekend. _


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N - I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. Kinda got stuck but hopefully I've dug myself out of it. Thanks to everyone who got in touch and shamed me into getting busy and writing some more._**

**_And I'm in the mood to celebrate today having read that Netflix are going to give us a Season 4! LongLiveLongmire - Woo Hoo!_**

**_Chapter 6_**

Back in Durant, the Ferg called that evening to the hospital and brought Cady something to eat from Busy Bees. He always had a soft spot for his boss's daughter, but she was oblivious to his feelings. She just thought that he was the sweetest guy and a great friend. They were eating biscuits and gravy, sipping Cokes and chatting when Walt showed the first signs of regaining consciousness.

The first thing they noticed was a change in his breathing. Not long after, his head lolled a little to his right and then back to the centre of the pillow again. Cady quickly put down her food, turned her full attention to him and reached for his hand. She was rewarded with a weak, but unmistakable, squeeze.

"Daddy, its Cady, open your eyes," she said, getting to her feet and reaching across to stroke his forehead. "Ferg, he's waking up. Will you call the nurse?"

"Sure thing," he said getting to his feet. He left the room and quickly returned with a nurse in tow.

"Sheriff Longmire, can you hear me?" the nurse asked rather loudly and deliberately as she approached the opposite side of the bed to where Cady was standing. Cady watched on expectantly. "Walt? Are you going to open those eyes for me?" she asked again.

The nurse produced a small penlight from the pocket of her uniform and lifted the sheriff's upper eyelid and shone the light it. He reacted immediately to the light, groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. She did the same to his other eye and the sheriff tried to raise his right hand to stop her. However, he hardly had the strength to do so. His feeble attempt was enough to hurt his injured chest and shoulder area. His face grimaced and his breathing quickened. The nurse noticed his distress immediately.

"It's okay, Walt. Just relax. You're in the hospital. You were shot, but you're going to be fine," she told him, looking over at Cady and trying to encourage her to talk to him.

"I'm here, Daddy," Cady said, putting her hand on his arm. "You're okay…. you're going to be fine."

With that Walt's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her groggily. It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus, but his vision eventually cleared. He recognized the smiling face above him.

"Hey, Punk," he croaked, his voice barely audible.

"Hey, yourself," Cady replied, a broad smile extending across her face. His pale eyes were fixed on her. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Thank God. I was so worried."

"Sorry," he said painfully as he exhaled.

"Sshhh, it's not your fault. I'm just so glad you're okay," she told him.

He smiled a weak smile. He could see the emotion in his daughter's eyes. She looked tired he noticed. He tried to remember how he had ended up in hospital this time, but it was all a blur. He noted the ache and heaviness in his chest. He felt so weak. It must have been a bad one, he assumed, as his eyes threatened to close once more.

"How do you feel, Sheriff?" the nurse asked stepping into his line of vision, her voice jolting him awake again. "If you have any pain, let me know."

"What happened?" he asked weakly.

"You were shot, Dad," Cady replied. "At the bank. Do you remember anything that happened?"

He shook his head feebly. Why couldn't he remember?

"Don't worry, Sheriff. The brain has a funny way of blocking out a trauma until you're ready to deal with it. It will come back," the nurse piped up as if reading his mind. "You rest and Doctor Weston will be in to see you shortly."

The nurse gave Cady a reassuring smile then left the room. Cady continued to cling to her father's hand. The Ferg stood back, feeling a little awkward being present for such an intimate moment between the sheriff and his daughter.

"You really scared me this time, Daddy," she told him. "Everyone's been so worried. Ruby and Vic were here earlier. The Ferg is here. He brought Busy Bees."

"Hi, Sheriff," Ferg piped up. "Glad you're okay."

Walt wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. His mind felt clouded. He just looked up at his daughter through bleary eyes. He felt Cady squeeze his hand again and it comforted him knowing she was there. But he was so tired. He fought to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing battle.

Cady watched as her father struggled to stay awake. It broke her heart. She had never seen him so weak and vulnerable.

"It's okay, Daddy. You don't have to fight it. Just sleep. It will help you heal. I'll be here when you wake up," she promised, placing her hand on his forehead and stroking his head gently.

He smiled at her again before allowing his heavy lids to close. Soon he was in a deep slumber. The Ferg hugged Cady, their joint relief evident. Shortly after, he excused himself and headed back to the office for a while. The doctor dropped by and spoke to Cady briefly. He promised to call back in the morning when the sheriff would hopefully be awake. Cady was hugely grateful and couldn't thank Doctor Weston enough.

She looked back at her sleeping father and felt a weight had been lifted. He had pulled through. Knowing he would sleep for a while, she decided to take the opportunity to call around and let people know that he was awake. She was walking to the entrance of the hospital when she met former sheriff, Lucian Connally, striding towards her.

"Ah, Ms. Cady," he said, greeting the young woman.

"Lucian, it's good to see you," Cady said, hugging him warmly.

"I'm sorry it's so late. I heard about your dad and came by to see how the big fella was doing?"

"Better today. He regained consciousness earlier. I was just heading outside to make a few calls. You can go on in and see him if you like, Room 114. He's sleeping again though," Cady told him.

"I might, just for a minute, if that's okay?" Lucian said.

"Go ahead. I won't be long," Cady told him.

So while Cady made her calls, Lucian visited with his successor. He and Walt went way back. Walt was his deputy for many years before he retired. They were close and still had a standing arrangement to play chess every Tuesday night.

"Now what did I teach you about getting yourself shot?" Lucian said reproachfully as he approached the hospital bed. "Doing stuff like that can get ye killed, Walt," he continued, despite the fact that Walt was in a medicated sleep. "I'd rather they weren't putting you in the ground before me, Son."

Lucian had taught Walt everything he knew about being a lawman in Wyoming. He had been hard on him, but Walt had proved himself a quick learner and when the time came for Lucian to retire, he was the obvious choice to take over. And Lucian's faith in him had been proved correct. Walt had excelled at being Sheriff. He was good for the county and good for the town. He was a affable fellow. Lucian was very fond of Walt and was desperately sad to hear that this had happened to him.

"They tell me you killed one of them son's-o-bitches that shot you," Lucian told him. "Now that's more like what I taught you. You heal up, Walt, and get back out there as soon as you can, do you hear me? Absaroka County needs you. And I don't want to have to find something else to fill my Tuesday nights."

Lucian didn't stay long. He said his piece and left. Cady was still on the phone outside when he was leaving. She gave him a wave as he strolled back to the retirement home where he now resided.

Cady tried to call Henry but it went straight to voice mail. She left a message. She decided to try Branch.

Branch was leading his horse down the trail when his cell phone rang. The horse startled a little and Branch had to settle him before answering. He switched the reins in his hands before reaching into his pocket to answer it.

"Yeah?"

"Branch, it's me," Cady said eagerly.

"Cady. How's he doing?" Branch asked anxiously, half expecting bad news.

"He woke up. He's going to be okay," she told him, sounding thrilled.

"Well, that's great, Cady. I never doubted it for a minute," Branch replied, feeling genuinely relieved that his mentor would recover.

His horse exhaled loudly and Cady heard the unexpected snort.

"That sounded like a horse. Where are you, Branch?" she asked curiously.

"Somewhere north of Pole Creek. Henry and I found Molly Grady's attacker," he told her.

"Henry's with you? I was trying to call him," she told him.

"Oh, we heard it ring, but he couldn't reach it because of the splint on his arm," Branch told her.

"Splint? What happened to him?" Cady asked, suddenly becoming concerned for Henry.

"He got in a tousle with our prisoner," Branch told her. "Arm looks broken. He'll get it checked out when we get down the mountain."

"Oh no, poor Henry. I bet he's not happy. Will you tell him about Dad?" she asked. "It might make him feel a little better."

"Sure I will," Branch replied. "We're on our way back to the truck now. I think Vic is meeting us. She can take Henry to get his arm looked at and I'll take this freak to jail."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back. Take care."

As he pocketed his phone, Branch shouted the good news back to Henry who was on the horse taking up the rear.

"Hey, Henry. Walt's awake."

A wide smile crept across his normally stoic face. He said very little to voice his delight, but you could tell he was hugely relieved.

As light was fading fast, Henry suggested that they ride double to ensure they get to the Grady property before dark. Branch was reluctant to do so, but the it was getting dark and he knew it would be dangerous to continue their journey in darkness. He checked that their prisoner was tied securely to his horse and then climbed up behind Henry. He kept a tight grip to the reins of his horse as Henry, single-handed, steered his mount home.

They knew they were close to the Grady property when they saw the lights of the Sheriff's Department truck and the ambulance lighting up the ranch. Vic was waiting with her folded arms, leaning against the truck as they rode up.

"Is this him?" she asked, checking out the unkempt figure slouched across the neck of the horse.

"Yep," Branch said, sliding down from Henry's mount.

Vic turned up her nose at the odor emanating from the guy she was expecting to take into custody.

"Jeez, that's strong," she said, trying not to gag. "So I suppose you want me to drive him back to the jail."

"Nope," Branch replied. "I shot him so he needs to go to the hospital. You can follow behind the ambulance and take Henry. His arms busted."

Vic turned back towards Henry who was awkwardly attempting to dismount.

"Do you need any help?" she asked, approaching him.

"No, thank you," he insisted, as he threw one leg over the neck of the horse and slid off one side quite nimbly.

"Okay," Vic said, impressed.

Branch untied the prisoner and helped him down and into the waiting ambulance. The medics checked him over and then listened to Branch's warnings about him. Branch then handcuffed him to the gurney and ordered the paramedics to leave him handcuffed until Deputy Moretti released him at the hospital, insisting it was for their own safety.

They didn't need to be told twice.

Vic and Henry followed the ambulance back to Durant Hospital.

"It is good news about Walt," Henry said by way of conversation.

"Absolutely," Vic replied. "It's such a relief. I thought we were going to lose him, Henry. I was never so scared."

"I have to admit that I too was scared," Henry told her. "When I saw him on the sidewalk, I thought he was dead. It was not a pleasant feeling."

"Yeah," Vic sighed. "But he's going to be fine and that's all that matters."

When they arrived at the hospital, Vic stayed with the prisoner while Henry was seen to in the emergency room. Every bone in her body wanted to run to room 114 and hear Walt's gravelly voice once more. But she had a job to do and however much it pained her, she had to stay with the prisoner.

Branch, despite being tired, had to load the horses back into the trailer and taken them home to be watered down and fed. It was late in the night before he made it back to the hospital. Vic was glad to see him.

"I was going to call in and see Walt," Vic said when he arrived.

"Go ahead. I'll stay here with Grizzly Adams," Branch replied.

"We can check in the morning, see if we can identify him. Have you heard if Mrs. Grady is conscious yet?" Vic asked.

"No, nothing yet. I'll ask a nurse to check. Is Henry okay?" Branch enquired.

"He's fine. His wrist is broken and he bruised a couple of ribs. They put a cast on it and gave him some pain killers and sent him home," Vic told him.

Vic left Branch with the prisoner who was sedated and secured in a private room. He would be relocated to the jail the following morning. At that moment, she didn't care what happened to him. She just wanted to see Walt. She had waiting to see him since Cady had called her earlier in the evening. At last, she had the chance.

TBC...

**_A/N_ **- thats it for this chapter. At least Walt is awake. Still more to come. Hopefully I won't take as long for the next one.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N - Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Hope its ok.**_

Chapter 7

Vic jogged down the silent corridors until she came to Walt's room, anxious to see him. She entered quietly, expecting to see Cady there, but the room was empty, except for the patient asleep on the bed. The light was dim and the room still. She crept in and eased herself into the same chair where she had anxiously spent the previous night. Walt was sleeping. Vic felt a pang of disappointment. She desperately wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice and see those wonderful eyes staring back at her.

He looked better, she noted. The deathly pallor had left him and he was breathing more easily and unaided. All positive signs she knew and she was so grateful. She reached for his hand, took it in hers and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Walt had sensed someone entering the room and it roused him from his slumber. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping. When he felt the warmth of a hand being slid into his, it gave him comfort. He felt the brush of soft lips against the sensitive skin on the back of his hand.

Vic almost had a heart attack when he spoke.

"Cady?" Walt whispered, thinking that it was his daughter who had returned.

"No, Walt, it's me. Vic," she said, standing so he could see her more clearly.

"I thought you were Cady," he said, his words slightly slurred as his senses returned.

"She's gone home to get some rest," Vic said, assuming this to be the case. "I thought I'd check in on you before heading home. Jeez, Walt, you gave us one hell of a scare."

"Did I?" he asked, shifting slightly in the bed. "Help me sit up," he said feebly.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Vic said, afraid she'd cause him further injury.

To her horror, Walt started to push himself up. His forehead creased with discomfort and Vic quickly reacted, grabbing pillows to put behind him.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Walt," Vic said, unable to hide her concern.

Walt eased back against the pillows. The simple act of sitting up had been a huge exertion on his body. It took a few seconds for the sound of blood pounding in his ears to clear. Only then did he realize that Vic was speaking to him.

"…and you really need to take it easy, Walt," Vic said seriously.

Walt nodded. He tried to moisten his parched lips, but his whole mouth was dry. Vic realized instantly what he needed. She walked around to the other side of the bed and grabbed a plastic cup off the side table. She filled it from a jug and offered it to him.

"Just a sip," she said, not sure if he was allowed ingest anything just yet.

He took a sip and then another then lay back.

"Better?" she asked.

"Thanks," he replied.

Vic returned the cup to the table, then stood and looked down at Walt, smiling as she did. It wasn't often that Vic smiled that way at Walt.

"What?" Walt asked, feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing," Vic said coyly. "I just realized how close I came to losing you, Walt, and I don't ever want to go through that again."

"I can't remember much of what happened," he told her.

"Well, I'm never going to forget it," Vic replied earnestly.

"So...…" Walt said, seeking elaboration.

"You got shot, Walt," Vic said, stating the obvious.

"That much I figured out," he replied, with the hint of a smile. "But how?"

"Stupidest, dumbest, shit luck from what I can figure," Vic told him in her usual eloquent way. "You interrupted a robbery when you went over to the bank. Can you believe it? The little punk panicked and shot you twice. But you got him too, Walt. The kid bled out. They found his body outside of Fairview. The driver's still in the wind though," Vic informed him.

"A kid?" Walt asked solemnly.

"Well, when I say kid, he was seventeen," Vic told him, trying to take the sting out of the news.

"Seventeen," Walt said with a sigh, trying to absorb the fact that he killed a kid. To his surprise, tears began to form in his eyes. Vic noticed and she realized that she could have chosen a better time to have told him. "He was just a kid," Walt said sadly.

"Look, Walt. You had no choice. He almost killed you," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and putting a comforting arm around his shoulder. The closeness felt right. "Well, I for one am glad he didn't," she said, gently turning his rough face towards her with her free hand.

His watery eyes met hers. She could see that inside he was in turmoil.

"Ssshh," she said, before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

He pulled back a little surprised, plenty confused, and looked into her eyes again. This time his eyes questioned the intimacy of her actions. She grinned at his confusion, leaned towards him and kissed his lips softly once more.

Walt wasn't sure what to think. His head was in a spin, his emotions in chaos. His medications were messing with his head. He had killed men before in the line of duty. He couldn't understand why this one upset him so? He battled his emotions and suddenly she was there, right when he needed her.

He was in Vic's arms. He had dreamed of being in her arms before, guilt-ridden fantasies, but never like this. It felt so good to be held by her. He allowed the tension release from his body and his head drooped forward. A single tear escaped down his cheek. Seeing this foreign, emotionally vulnerable Walt for the first time, Vic pulled his head to her chest and stroked the back of his head, as a mother would that of her crying child. He allowed himself to wallow in the comfort of her bosom for a minute or two before pulling away.

"Sorry," he said, embarrassed at being so openly fragile. "I don't know what…"

"It's okay, Walt. Don't be sorry," she interrupted. "I could hold you like this all night, you know, but I know how uncomfortable that would make you. It doesn't have to be like that. I wish you could see that."

She slid off the edge of the bed and stood to leave. Walt reached for her hand and held on to it, looking up at her without a word. They gazed at each other for a brief moment until Vic broke the silence.

"I should go," she said. "We should talk when you're feeling better though, Walt. Ignoring it won't make it go away. But right now I need you to rest and get your strength back."

Vic started to walk away before stopping and turning back to him.

"By the way, we got the guy who attacked Molly Grady," she told him.

Molly Grady, her name jogged a memory.

Walt closed his eyes to bring forth the recollection. He remembered that morning at the Grady ranch. He remembered getting her to the hospital. He was about to ask Vic how Molly was, but when he opened his eyes, she was gone. He was alone. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to make sense of what had just happened. He hoped it meant what he thought it meant.

Then he glanced around his room properly for the first time. It was bare, minimal, with only a few necessary furnishings. He spotted a tiny bag attached to his IV tree. It was a medicine bag, so he knew his friend, Henry, had been there and was watching out for him. He tried to assess his injuries. He visually checked out the bandage on his chest. Obviously wound number one, he noted. The other uncomfortable are was his upper leg. He reached down and could feel the thick bandaging around it. He wondered if the bone had been hit. If it had, he would be out of work for a long time.

The idea appalled him. The thought of sitting home for 6 months was a nightmare. He would have to talk to the doctor, he decided. But he felt tired again, despite being awake for only a short while. He would sleep now and talk to the doctor in the morning.

For the rest of the night, his sleep was restless. He dreamed of Martha, his deceased wife. He was at home in their cabin, in bed. He lay there gazing at her while she slept. They were so happy, so normal. He fell asleep beside her thoroughly content. The next morning he woke and rolled over to greet her but she wasn't there. He heard noises from the kitchen and when the bedroom door opened, in walked Vic, wearing only a t-shirt and panties, carrying a steaming cup of coffee for him.

It was confusing and disturbing to him. He woke suddenly, ending the dream, before eventually drifting back to sleep.

Martha visited him again in his dreams. This time she was visiting him in the hospital. She stood at his bedside with her arms folded. She was cross with him. She chastised him for not taking better care of himself. It felt so real and even though she was mad at him, he didn't care. She was there.

But then as quickly as she was there, she was gone and the scene changed. This time he was at her bedside back in Denver the night she was stabbed. He was pleading with her to hold on, but she knew she was dying. She was strong and brave and knew what her death would do to her devoted husband. She begged him not to let this destroy him.

The hospital scene faded and it was just Martha. She was at their favorite place on the mountain. The sun was shining and she was smiling and radiant. She spoke to him.

"You have to live, Walt. You deserve a life and our daughter deserves her dad back. Allow yourself to be happy. It's okay, you know? You were a wonderful husband and I know how much you loved me, but I am gone, Darling. And it's time you let me go. Loving someone else does not lessen the love we had. That was ours alone. Let yourself love again my sweet and only then you will you truly live again. Be happy, Walter."

She conveyed her message and then she was gone.

Walt woke a little confused and had to wonder for a moment if what he dreamed was real or not. It was morning and he was surprised to find his deputy, Branch Connally, sitting in the chair beside his bed.

"Hey, Walt," he piped up when he noticed his boss's eyes open.

"Branch," Walt replied.

"You look better," Branch told him.

"Sure," Walt replied sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep and my prisoner is out of it so I thought I'd check in on you. Sorry if I woke you," Branch explained.

Walt frowned.

"You left a prisoner alone in the jail to come here?" Walt asked with concern.

"No. The prisoner is in the surgical wing. I shot him yesterday. He should be discharged today so I can formally charge him," Branch explained.

"Who is he?"

"Well, that's kind of a problem right now. He has no ID, won't speak to us and is as crazy as a bag of cats," Branch informed him.

"Are you sure he did it?" Walt asked.

"Well, we can't be 100%, but Henry tracked him from the Grady property. Rape kit hasn't been processed yet and Mrs. Grady still hasn't woken up, but we'll get the evidence. Don't you worry about that," Branch reassured him.

"Make sure you do. That lady and her family deserve justice," Walt insisted.

"Don't worry, I got this, Boss," Branch told him confidently. "By the way, the Feds are anxious to talk to you."

"To me? Why?"

"Eh, about the robbery, about you getting shot," Branch reminded him.

"Oh."

"So, can I tell them you'll talk to them?" Branch asked.

"I guess," Walt replied, sounding disinterested.

"I'll let Agent Mason know. I gotta go. You take it easy, okay?" Branch said.

Walt shrugged. Take it easy? What else could he do? He shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He was feeling a bit of pain now for the first time but his head was a bit clearer. He figured he hadn't received his medication yet this morning. It was going to be a long day. He was feeling a bit stronger although he was reluctant to move very much.

As the hospital came to life, Walt listened to the sounds from outside his room. Life went on. He relaxed tried to ignore the throbbing from his thigh. He closed his eyes and thought of Martha. His dream felt so real. Would she really forgive him if he loved another woman? Vic had caught him off guard last night, but she made him sit up and think about the possibility of a future for them. Even if they worked it out between them, even if Sean was out of the picture, what would Cady think? Vic wasn't much older than her. Walt could only see any possible relationship becoming a bone of contention between them.

And then there was the practical side of life. Could they work together and be in a relationship? What would his staff think? What about the towns' people think? It's a small conservative town. He couldn't imagine the Sheriff shacking up with his deputy going down too well.

He was snapped out of his musings by a cheery, female voice.

"Good morning, Sheriff."

It was Deb Wilde, a nurse whom he had met on a few occasions.

"How are we this morning?" she asked.

"Okay," Walt replied, as conversant as ever.

"How's your pain?" she asked, as she checked the monitors and the chart.

"Okay."

"Really? From the sheen on your brow, I'd say you have some discomfort," she said knowing his history of stubbornness.

"Okay, a little."

"Well, the good news is that I have your meds," she said with a wink. She injected the needle into the drip that was feeding into his arm. "That should take effect pretty soon. Now for the bad news," she said dramatically.

Walt had no idea what was coming next.

"I have to check on your wounds," she said, throwing back the sheet on the bed. Walt felt embarrassed by his relative state of undress. A hospital gown doesn't leave much to the imagination.

She gently unwrapped the bandage on his leg and revealed an ugly, inflamed surgical incision. She noticed Walt's face change at the sight of it. "Were you expecting a nice neat little bullet hole?" she asked.

"Kinda," Walt replied honestly.

"Well, the surgeon did have to dig around in there and patch up your artery to stop you bleeding to death," she told him bluntly. "You were lucky they got you here when they did."

"So I've heard."

"Looks okay," she said, as she removed the stained gauze and expertly replaced it with a fresh bandage. "All done," she said, as she replaced the sheet. She moved towards the second wound on his chest.

She carefully prized the bandage from the area around the upper right side of his chest. Walt looked down, curious to see the wound for himself. It wasn't as gruesome as the leg wound and the edges were neatly stitched together.

"Nice work, eh?" Deb said, as she gently cleaned around the edges of the wound with antiseptic. "No sign of infection which is good," she commented as she finished cleaning and redressed it. "All done for today. Do you feel up to some food?" she asked.

Walt shook his head. His stomach was messed up and he felt nauseous from the medication.

"No thanks," he replied.

"Nauseous?" she asked, suspecting that was the case.

"A little," Walt replied.

"The surgery and the meds can do that. I can give you something to help with that," she said. "I'll get the doctor to write it up. I'll be back. Don't go anywhere," she said with a laugh as she disappeared.

Walt couldn't help but smile. Deb was a breath of fresh air that was for sure. When she did return, she wasn't alone. Cady entered the room behind her.

"You see, I told you he was much better," she said to Cady.

"I can see that," Cady said sounding impressed.

"Take this, Walt. It will help with the nausea," she said, handing him a small pill and a cup of water.

"Thanks," Walt said, before swallowing the pill.

"I'll leave you to it so," Deb said before leaving the room.

Cady approached her dad silently, leaned across and enveloped him in her arms. She held him as she had never held him before all the while being mindful of his injuries.

"There was a while when I never thought I'd get to do that again," she told him.

Walt felt terrible for having put her through such a horrible time. He relaxed and let himself be held. Eventually Cady released him. She stayed with him for the morning. He was still weak and couldn't help but doze on and off during the morning.

Later that afternoon, after Cady had left, FBI Special Agent Mason and his partner, called to see Walt. He stayed for a while and questioned the sheriff about what he remembered from the day of the robbery. Walt explained that his memory was still sketchy. The agent detailed to Walt what was going on in their investigation so far. They told him that they had found the body of the gunman. The autopsy showed that he died as a result of blood loss from gunshot wound to the arm that severed the brachial artery.

Agent Mason informed him that the deceased was seventeen year old Dale Boucher, a Canadian national. He was a runaway, his mother having reported him missing eight months previous. They had no leads on the driver of the car. Some reports from the parking lot where the raiders stole the car immediately following the robbery suggested that the driver was female. Other than that they had nothing. Prints from the car didn't get them any hits. They were still investigating and Agent Mason promised to keep Walt up to date.

The rest of that day passed slowly. Walt rested. He hoped that Vic would call by, but he was disappointed. Ruby did call for a while and Henry stopped by. Walt was surprised to see his arm in a sling and his bruised and scratched face.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked.

"I made the mistake of going riding with your deputy," Henry replied seriously.

"Vic?"

"No, not Vic. Branch."

"Ah, sure, he told me how you tracked Molly Grady's attacker. These drugs are messing with my memory. Thank you, Henry, I owe you yet again," Walt said graciously.

"That's what friends are for, Walt."

Walt's recovery continued slowly over the next few days. Vic called several times, but always while someone else was there, be it Cady or Henry or The Ferg. Walt felt frustrated because he wanted to talk to her. He was starting to believe that what happened that night, the intimacy, the kiss, was a figment of his imagination.

He was starting to grow stronger. All he wanted now was to get out of that hospital and get home. Maybe then he and Vic could have that talk.

**Tbc...**

A/N - probably only one more chapter left. Stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**** - thanks again for your interest in this story. Hope you enjoy the ending. This and one more chapter will wrap it up.**

**Chapter 9**

After a few days in ICU, Walt had been moved to a more comfortable private room. Each day he grew stronger and although he was ordered to stay off his injured leg, he was pestering anyone who would listen to him about going home. He harassed his daughter every day about bringing in some clothes so he could get out of there. However, Cady resisted his petulance and doggedness until eventually, nine days after he had been shot she arrived in with a bag of clothes from home.

He smiled when she popped his hat on the foot of the bed.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Walt asked.

"Absolutely," Cady replied, smiling at her father's obvious delight. "You've been sprung."

He was immediately up on his feet, although technically he was up on one foot, and reaching for his crutch.

"Take it easy, Dad. There's no rush," Cady said, as he hobbled to grab the bag.

"Maybe not from where you standing, but I've been in here long enough," he said, reaching for the jeans. He sat on the edge of the bed and struggled to pull them on. His right leg was swaddled in a heavy bandage that covered his thigh and continued down over his knee. It was awkward as it didn't allow for his knee to bend very much.

Cady saw his struggle and offered to help. Walt, a little embarrassed at his inability to put on his own pants, was reluctant to accept her help.

"Okay, you'll just have to stay here until Henry gets here later," Cady said wryly.

Walt considered this option, but then relented and let his daughter help him. Once the jeans were over the injured leg, he managed to pull them on. Then he removed the hospital gown and stiffly pulled his shirt on. Cady could see by his deliberate movements that his chest and shoulder area were still quite tender.

"I'm good to go now," Walt said, brushing back his hair with his hand and putting his hat on.

"Not so fast," Cady said, slowing him down. "Doc Weston wants a quick word before you go. He'll be here in a minute," she told him.

Walt sighed and sat back on the bed. He knew what was coming. Doc Weston would read him the riot act, warn him about taking it easy and taking his painkillers, blah, blah, blah. He was right. The doctor arrived and gave Walt a stern talking to. Walt listened again to how lucky he is to be alive and tried not to appear bored with it. He felt fine and he was ready to get home and then back to work.

"And you can forget about work for at least another 2 weeks and even then, light duties only," the doctor warned. "Do you hear me, Walt? If you undo all my hard work, I'll keep you in here for a month the next time," he threatened. "And I want you back here in a couple of days to change the dressing on your leg."

"Okay, 2 weeks. I can manage that," Walt said, not truly believing that he could.

"Don't worry, Doc," Cady piped up. "I have the whole department warned and I'll make sure he takes it easy. We'll see you Thursday."

At last Walt was free. He insisted on walking, with the aid of a crutch, out to the Cady's car, despite the protestations of the orderly sent with a wheelchair to escort him. By the time Walt reached the car, he was beat. It was the furthest he had walked since he had been wounded. He was still pretty weak, he realized.

Cady drove him home. When they got to the cabin, Walt saw smoke from the chimney. Then he noticed Vic's truck. And someone had put another step up to the veranda which would make it easier for him to get onto the front porch.

"Henry got a few guys from the Rez along with Bob to do that so you wouldn't kill yourself trying to get in and out," she told him he slowly hopped up the couple of neat, wooden steps.

The door of the cabin opened and Vic stood there, smiling widely.

"Welcome home," she said, standing back and allowing him inside. "I'm making dinner."

"That's great. Thanks but you didn't have to," he said, a little uncomfortable having people fuss over him.

"I know I didn't, but I wanted to," Vic told him. "After you being stuck in that hospital for so long, I thought you might like to eat on the front porch. Get some fresh air."

"Sure," he said, limping over to the couch and easing himself down.

"I'll leave your stuff in the bedroom," Cady said, walking on through.

"You look good, Walt," Vic said to him before turning to the stove.

"Seems like a lot of food," Walt said, seeing the full pots and plates on the sideboard.

"We're having company," she told him. "Henry is coming over, so is Ruby. The Ferg and Branch are holding the fort tonight."

"Oh," Walt said, unsure if he was in the mood for company. "Could you throw me a beer?" he asked.

Vic went to the fridge to get him one, but Cady came out of the bedroom just at the right time, or wrong time if you were the sheriff.

"What did the doctor say, Dad? No alcohol while you're on those painkillers," Cady reminded him.

"I'm sure he meant hard liquor," Walt said, chancing his arm. "A beer hardly counts."

Walt grumbled as Vic handed him a soda instead. The two girls cooked up a storm and soon dinner was ready. Henry and Ruby arrived separately and warmly greeted Walt. They all sat outside, ate and chatted. Walt was in a contemplative mood. A large harvest moon hung above the mountains. It lit the Big Horns beautifully. For the first time in quite a while, Walt felt glad to be alive.

"Walt?" Henry said, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I don't think you heard me. The news from the hospital is that Molly Grady woke from her coma today," Henry told him.

"That's great. I really need to talk to her and see if she can identify the guy Branch arrested," Walt said, perking up.

"Eh, I don't think so," Vic interjected. "Two weeks, isn't that what the doctor said, Cady?"

"Absolutely," Cady replied.

"Anyway, Walt, while Molly is conscious, I'm not sure she'll be able to tell you anything," Henry continued.

"Why not?" Walt asked.

"I spoke to her husband in the Red Pony earlier. She's going to have some lingering effects of her head injury. Most likely seizures and memory deficit, he said. They're going through a really tough time," Henry explained.

Walt sighed and looked out over the landscape. Life could be so unfair. Another family's life changed forever. Their soiree continued for another while until Ruby and Cady noticed that Walt was getting tired. Despite his protestations, Cady insisted that he go to bed.

Henry and Ruby thanked Vic and Cady for the lovely evening and made their way home. Cady and Vic were tidying away the dishes when Walt finally decided to turn in for the night.

"You two can head on home," Walt said, hobbling towards his bedroom door. "I'll finish those in the morning," he said referring to the dishes.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight," Vic said, much to Walt's surprise.

"What?"

"Cady is heading home so she's going to come over in the morning after I go to work," Vic told him.

"I don't need a babysitter," Walt said, sounding insulted by their planning.

"Well, call me the babysitter or just call me crazy, but you're stuck with me," Vic said, without even looking at him.

"I don't have a spare room," Walt said, stating the obvious.

"The couch is fine. I've slept on it before, remember?" Vic reminded him.

"Fine then," Walt said indifferently, limping off to his bedroom without another word.

Cady and Vic exchanged glances at had a little giggle at Walt's expense.

"Are you sure you're okay staying with him? He's a bit grumpy tonight."

"Absolutely. Don't you worry about me. I'll take good care of him. I'll see you in the morning," Vic said, walking Cady to the door.

"Make sure he takes his medication," Cady reminded her.

Vic promised and waved Cady off. She went back to the kitchen and finished off the cleaning up. Soon she was ready to sit down and relax. Then she realized that Walt hadn't taken his medication because it was still sitting in a bag on the piano.

"Walt?" she said, picking up the bag and knocking on his bedroom door. "Are you awake?"

There was no answer. Slightly concerned, she entered the room and she found Walt half undressed and fast asleep on top of the bed covers. The sight made her smile. There was something sweet about seeing him like that. She would have loved to have let him sleep, but she had to get the medication into him.

"Walt?"

He stirred but didn't wake. She leaned over him and rested her hand on his shoulder. He woke and sat up suddenly. Vic jumped back, surprised by the suddenness of his wakening.

"Fuck. Sorry, Walt," she said.

"What is it?"

"It's just you forgot to take these," she said holding up the package.

Walt flopped back down onto the bed, relieved that there was nothing wrong.

"Why don't you finish getting undressed and I'll get you some water to take these," Vic said, walking into the bathroom.

When she came out, Walt was sitting there and only his shirt was off.

"What about the pants?" Vic said with a flirty tone.

"I think I need a little help with these," he said, not intending it to sound like a come on, but it just did.

Vic raised her eyebrows and Walt blushed.

"My leg," he said by way of explanation. "I can't bend my leg."

"Well, let me help you with that," she said grinning at his embarrassment. "Lie back down," she ordered.

He looked at her with a worried look.

"Trust me," she said, gently pushing him back.

His breath caught in his throat as he lay back and he felt her fingers undoing his button and zipper.

"Up," she said, encouraging him to raise his butt.

He did and she quickly took the ends of the jeans and pulled them down. Walt tried to control his body's natural reaction to her closeness. His breathing quickened.

"Easy there, Cowboy," Vic said, noticing his growing excitement.

Walt just looked intensely at her. He wanted her. There was no denying that. She handed him his antibiotics and painkillers and a glass of water. He swallowed them without argument and handed back the glass to her. As she took it from him, his hand caught her wrist and he gently pulled her onto the bed beside him.

"Walt?" she said nervously, her usual cockiness abandoning her.

His hand ran along her arm, across her shoulder and up into her hair. She closed her eyes and allowed his hand to explore her body. Despite his injured limb, he managed to pull himself closer to her. She sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. He placed his strong arms around her, inhaled her perfumed scent and started to undo her shirt buttons. She didn't stop him. He softly peeled the shirt from her shoulders and kissed the perfect skin on her back.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" she asked anxiously, pulling away and standing up.

"Yup," he managed to say.

Walt fixated on her heaving breasts. She let him watch for a few thrilling moments before she unsnapped her bra and stood there unabashed, her confidence returning.

Her eyes met Walt's and with a sexy smile she began to undo her trousers. She kicked them off and her underwear quickly followed. She climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him. She pushed him onto his back and held herself over him, teasing him. Their eyes locked and each could see the desire burning in the other. She straddled him, still on her hands and knees, teasing. She lowered her head and gently kissed the area around the bandage on his chest. Her kisses continued upwards until she found his eager mouth.

Walt wasn't sure if he was asleep or if any of this was real. He felt the moisture of her lips on his. He heard her gasp as he eased himself into her and felt the warmth of her sex as she enveloped him. It felt pretty damn real to him.

Despite his eagerness, their love-making was gentle and controlled. Vic dictated the pace, ever conscious of his injuries and of not hurting him. She didn't want to be the reason he ended up back in hospital.

Despite Vic's attempts at keeping her weight off his injured limb, a jolt of pain shot down his leg, a reminder to Walt of his limitations, yet he continued on. There would be no stopping him. He kept his gentle rhythm until they could both hold back no longer. They came together in a wave of pleasure and panting.

Vic collapsed on the bed beside Walt, her chest heaving. Walt did likewise, feeling more exhausted than he had ever felt before.

"Are you okay, Walt?" she asked as soon as she got her breath back.

"Never been better," he said.

"Are you sure?" Vic asked. "I didn't hurt you or anything? Should I check your dressings?"

"Just come here," Walt said, pulling her close to him.

She put her head on his chest. His heart was still pounding like a diesel engine. He felt the warmth of her breath as she played with his chest hair. For Vic, being so close to Walt after wanting it for so long, felt so right. She hoped he wouldn't have any regrets. His heart beat was starting to regularize, his breathing grew heavier.

When she looked up into his face, he was fast asleep. It had obviously taken a lot out of him. She got up and pulled the blanket over him. She snuggled back in beside him, put her arm across his abdomen and pretty soon she, too, was asleep.

TBC...

_A/N - those of you who have been urging me to give you some Walt/Vic loving, I hope this was okay. I don't usually include physical intimacy scenes in my stories because I'm not confident at writing them. I changed the category of the story to M so as not to offend._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N - sorry for the delay in getting this final chapter up. Busy with Xmas preparations. Thanks to everyone who read my first Longmire story. Love this character, love this show. Long Live Longmire.**

**Chapter 9**

The next morning, Cady arrived at the cabin early as arranged. She was surprised not to see Vic on the couch, even more surprised to see the pillow and blankets still neatly folded in a pile where she had left them. She smiled, realizing what must have happened.

"Good morning," she hollered, loud enough to make sure her father and Vic heard.

Vic heard her alright and sat up in the bed like a shot. She quickly realized what was going on and was mortified.

"Fuck! Fuck! Walt, get up. Cady's here," she said, shaking him roughly to wake him. "Tell her I'm just using the shower."

"What? Vic…..I think she'll have figured it out," Walt said, rubbing his eyes and sounding groggy.

"No, I don't want…...God, Walt, just tell her."

"Why? We did nothing wrong. We're both adults," Walt told her, ever the pragmatist.

"I know, but….it's too soon. I'm not sure what's going on here," she admitted. "I don't want it out there just yet."

"Cady will be discreet, but whatever you want. Hand me that crutch and some pants and I'll go talk to her," Walt said, getting up.

Vic helped him with his pants and gave him his crutch before disappearing into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and stepped in. The water was cold. The water heater hadn't been turned on, but at least it gave her a chance to hide out for a few minutes while Walt smoothed things over with his daughter.

"Good morning," Cady said cheerily when her father appeared out of his bedroom. She was unable to hide the smile on her face.

"Eh, Vic is just in the shower," Walt blurted out without being asked.

"Is she now?" Cady asked, coming over and giving her dad a kiss on the cheek.

Walt leaned on his crutch and felt a little like an awkward teenager after being caught out by his folks.

"She must have been up early. I see she tidied away the blankets and everything," she said, patting down the pillow as she passed by. She was deliberately winding him up.

"Eh, yeah," Walt replied.

"Are you hungry? I think I'll make some eggs," Cady asked.

"Sure, just let me shower," Walt said, turning to re-enter the bedroom.

"Isn't the shower already occupied?" Cady asked with devilment.

Walt gave a nervous laugh.

"Hah, yeah. Eh, I'll just wait until she's finished," he said, sitting into the armchair near the fireplace.

"You had a good night then?" Cady asked, insisting on winding him up further.

"What? I…we eh, …..," Walt stammered, not quite knowing what to say.

Although she was enjoying watching him squirm, she decided it was only fair to let him off the hook.

"A good night's sleep, Dad? Were you in any pain?" she asked.

"Oh, eh, no. No pain."

As Cady rooted around in her dad's refrigerator she smiled broadly. She had no qualms about Vic and her dad getting together. He was such a private person and she knew the very thought of her knowing or even suspecting that anything went on last night would mortify him. She decided to let it lie and play along.

Vic finally emerged from the bedroom. She was fully clothed and her hair was tied up in a towel.

"Good morning," Cady said, giving her a wry smile as she entered the kitchen.

Vic mouthed the word "what", trying to play the innocent.

"Nothing," Cady said jovially. "Sleep well?"

"Fine, thank you," Vic snarled, feeling a little trapped.

"Dad seems to have worked up an appetite. Must be the fresh air," Cady commented. "I'm cooking eggs if you want some. The coffee is brewing."

"Thanks. Coffee would be good," Vic said, toweling her hair dry.

She walked out to where Walt was sitting and they had a whispered conversation.

"Do you think she suspects?" Vic asked.

"Yup," Walt replied.

"What? How? I mean, our story was believable, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Mostly, but maybe if the couch didn't look so untouched, she'd be more inclined to believe us," Walt said, gesturing towards the neat stack of blankets and pillows sitting on the couch.

"Shit," Vic said, starting to see the funny side of things. She looked into Walt's eyes. "What happened last night, we should probably talk about it."

"We should."

"I'll come by tonight after work, if that's okay," she said.

Walt nodded. He desperately wanted to kiss her and hold her again. She stood to leave and then quickly turned back and gave him a peck on the cheek. She grabbed her travel mug from the side counter and filled it with some of the fresh coffee that Cady had made.

"I'll be off so," she said. "You take it easy, Walt," she said and then winked at him.

He smiled broadly at her as she headed out. Cady caught the smile. It felt good to see him smile. It was a rare thing these last few years.

"Will you be able to manage in the shower, Dad?" Cady asked, as he pulled himself up awkwardly.

"I'll be fine," he said.

Walt had his shower. It was difficult, trying to keep his bandaged leg dry, but he managed. When he came out, Cady had toast and eggs and fresh coffee prepared. Walt was hungry and he sat down and tucked in. Cady sat across the table from him. She watched as he ate. She was grateful that he was recovering and that he was happy. It could have ended so differently.

"I'm glad for you," she said, before taking another sip of her coffee.

Walt knew what she meant, but didn't give much away. He nodded and shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth. He didn't want to talk about it. Cady knew he wouldn't, but she wanted him to know that she didn't have a problem with him moving on.

Vic drove to work on a bit of a high. She wasn't expecting what had happened to ever actually happen. She had thought about it, even dreamed of it, but never thought anything would come of it. The fact that it was so unexpected made it even more exciting. He was a good lover, so gentle yet so strong. She felt a bit nervous about the future though. Would Walt want a future for them or would she be his sordid little secret? She tried not to think too much about it. They definitely needed to talk. A mature open discussion was required.

Her thoughts turned to Sean briefly. She hadn't seen him in weeks. He must have heard about Walt, but had never contacted her. She should sign those divorce papers that were sitting in her house for the last month or two. Give him what he wanted, now that she had what she wanted. She hated the fact that he would now be able to turn around and say "I told you so". He had suspected her feelings for Walt long before she recognized them for what they were. She did love him. Sean was right. The fear she felt when Walt had been shot was the most intense fear she had ever experienced. The love she felt was just as intense. She just didn't want to screw this up too.

She continued on to work. She was helping Branch with the Molly Grady case. They had identified her attacker as a 34 year old, former army corporal, Miles Hirsch. He had gone missing from a VA facility in Nebraska over 6 months previously. He had a history of violent rages and had previously hospitalized a member of his unit before being admitted for psychiatric treatment. Their case was solid. The DNA was a match to samples taken from the scene. He was being held in a secure unit in Sheridan until his arraignment. She just had to make sure all the paperwork was in order. A nice, reasonably quiet day was in store for her.

Walt, meanwhile, spent a relaxed morning at home. Cady fussed, making him take a nap before lunch and insisting he take his meds like clockwork. Walt chilled out on the porch that afternoon and flicked through a book he had been meaning to read for a long time. He began to get restless so he asked Cady to get him his rifles out of his truck so he could clean them. He spent a while cleaning and oiling them meticulously and by the time he had finished they were like new.

Later in the afternoon, he decided he needed to take a walk. Of course Cady didn't think it was a good idea, but Walt was headstrong and insistent. He took his crutch and started off towards the paddock.

"Where are you going?" Cady asked, the pitch in her voice giving away her nervousness.

"I'm only going down to the stable to check in on the horse," he said, trying to allay her fears.

"I'll come with you."

"Cady, I'm fine. I can manage a short walk," he insisted.

"Okay then. Just call me if you need me."

Walt took his time and hopped on his single crutch towards the paddock. He was careful to keep his full weight off his injured leg. Horse was loose and grazing in the enclosed space. Cady had let him out earlier that morning and fed him. Walt called him over to the fence and the beautiful black beast threw back his mane and sniffed the air then lopped towards him. Walt patted his nose and slapped his neck affectionately; glad to see him after almost two weeks. What Walt would give to mount up and gallop through the grassland towards the foot of the mountains. He loved the freedom horse-riding gave him.

He stood at the fence and rubbed Horse down for some time until the animal grew bored and wandered off. Walt leaned on the fence, putting his weight on his good leg and looked out over his property. He was a lucky man. His home stood on one of the most breath-taking vistas in the county.

He was contemplating his life these last few years, as well as what had happened last night, when a voice broke his musings.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Walt turned, a little startled by the interruption, and faced this young woman, in her early twenties he guessed. He didn't recognize her.

"Eh, yeah, sure is," Walt said, reaching for his crutch before turning around towards her.

"Oh, sorry if I startled you," she said with a kind smile.

"No, you didn't," Walt said. "I just don't usually get many visitors through here."

"I'm not visiting," she said. "I ran out of gas about a mile back. I'm such and idiot. If my dad finds out he'll kill me."

"Are you from around here?" Walt asked, suspecting not.

"No. I'm originally from Texas," she told him. "But my folks moved to Sheridan a few months ago and I'm driving around exploring."

"Alone?" Walt inquired.

"Yeah, I tend to prefer my own company," she replied.

Walt nodded and gave a friendly smile.

"I'm Ellie, by the way," she said, extending her hand.

"Walt," he said, accepting her handshake. "I have extra gas in my truck," he told her pointing to the sheriff's department truck parked up close to the cabin. "Come on up to the house."

She walked slowly alongside him as he limped back towards the house.

"How did you do that?" she asked, pointing to his injured leg.

"Oh, this? Eh, a work accident," he replied vaguely.

"You're the sheriff around here?" she asked, making the assumption from the truck.

"Yup," Walt replied, continuing on slowly.

Through the window, Cady spotted her dad on his way back to the house with a girl she didn't recognize. She waved, but they didn't see her. She went to the front porch and waited for them.

"Longmire, right?"

"Yeah," Walt replied, getting an uncomfortable feeling as this girl showed a bit too much interest in him. Or maybe he was just being paranoid.

"Do you remember a guy called Dale Boucher?" she asked, her tone changing as she suddenly stopped walking.

Walt stopped as well and whipped around and found her with a Sig Sauer aimed at his belly.

"So you do remember him then?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Not really. I've heard his name, that's all," Walt said calmly, all the while his mind was working overtime.

He was injured. He had no gun on him. His daughter was in the house. This could end so badly.

"That's all? You killed him!" Ellie growled at him. "So I'm going to kill you."

"Look, I didn't mean to kill him. He shot me first, almost killed me. I didn't even know I hit him," Walt told her honestly. "I really wish I hadn't. It was just…."

He struggled to find the words. She raised her gun just as Cady came out of the cabin door.

"Hey, have we a visitor?" she called down the yard.

She unwittingly distracted the girl for a fraction, giving Walt enough time to charge at her. He dropped his crutch and grabbed for the gun, pushing it skywards when a shot rang out. Cady screamed with shock as she watched her father and the visitor tumble to the ground and grapple for the gun. Unfortunately for Walt, they both landed heavily on his injured right side which left him in agony. Pain shot through him and black spots danced before his eyes.

His survival instinct told him not to pass out. He had to fight to stay awake. He was able to wrestle the gun from her hand. She was quicker to get to her feet than he and Walt feared she would disarm him so he threw the gun over his head and into the long grass. He didn't want to kill another kid if he didn't have to.

Cady, realizing what was going on, had run to the other side of the porch and grabbed her father's Winchester rifle. Her dad had taught her when she was much younger how to load and fire the rifle. Luckily, he had left a box of cartridges alongside his cleaning kit. She fumbled with the shells, but managed to get it loaded. She yelled at the top of her lungs for them to stop. She looked down the yard and saw the girl getting to her feet and kicking her dad viciously in the torso.

Walt tried to protect his body from the onslaught. He curled into the foetal position and protected his head with his arms. He received a sickening kick into his ribs and back which took the wind out of him. He could hear Cady yelling. Then a loud shot echoed around them. However, the onslaught didn't stop.

Ellie yelled obscenities at him and then another brutal kick, this time to the head, left him battling to remain conscious. The ringing in his ears meant he could no longer hear his daughter yelling at his attacker as she bravely charged towards them both, rifle in her arms.

"Get away from him you crazy bitch," Cady shouted. "I swear to God I'll shoot you right now."

Ellie continued her attack on Walt unfazed by the armed woman racing towards her. Cady stood and placed a carefully aimed shot on the ground close to Ellie.

"The next one goes in your head," she warned.

Ellie stopped and turned towards her with a crazed grin on her face.

"Go on, do it, Bitch," she said, charging towards Cady.

Calm under pressure, just like her father, Cady changed her grip on the rifle and when Ellie got close enough she swung it like a baseball bat and whacked her under the chin, knocking her backwards and out cold. Cady immediately rushed to her father's side. His eyes were closed. His eyebrow was split and bleeding heavily.

"Dad? Come on, dad, wake up," she said, gently tapping the side of his face. "Please be okay."

Walt's eyelids fluttered and his eyes opened. He groaned loudly and his hand immediately went to his pounding head.

"Where is she?" he asked, struggling to sit up.

Cady helped him sit and she pointed to the prone figure lying in the dust.

"Get my cuffs from the truck," Walt said, anxious to secure her. "Hurry."

Cady did as he asked and ran to his truck. Walt's whole body ached. His head was throbbing. He lay back down in an effort to stop the world spinning. Cady was back quickly with the cuffs.

"Roll her flat on her stomach and cuff her hands behind her back," Walt instructed her.

Cady did as he asked and soon she had her secured. She returned to her dad.

"Come on, let's get you inside," she said, trying to help her dad to his feet. "Are you okay?"

Walt mumbled affirmatively and got painfully to his feet with her assistance. As soon as he stood, the world tilted again and he swayed, causing Cady to grab hold of him even tighter. As they staggered to the cabin, Walt stopped suddenly, turned to one side and retched, bringing up his lunch.

"Oh God, Dad, you're not okay. I'm calling an ambulance," Cady said, clinging to him.

"No, I don't need an ambulance. It's probably just a concussion. I'll be fine," Walt insisted.

"Hmm, we'll see," Cady said, helping him up the step and into the cabin.

She guided him to the couch. She saw the pain in his face as she eased him down onto it.

"You just lie there. I'll call Vic and get some help," Cady said.

She grabbed the telephone and called the sheriff's department. Ruby answered. Cady, in her slightly panicked, state told Ruby what had happened. As she was making the call, Walt shouted at her to tell Vic to get Agent Mason to come also. Cady did as he asked, finished the call and then went to the freezer and got some ice. She spilled it into a towel and handed it to her dad. He held it to his throbbing head.

From the bathroom she got a damp cloth and cleaned the cut over Walt's eye.

"Keep a watch on her," Walt said, referring to the unconscious lunatic outside their house. "Take the rifle."

Cady finished cleaning the blood off her father's face, then walked outside and stood guard over the unconscious girl. After about ten minutes she regained consciousness and gave Cady dog's abuse. She twisted and squirmed and tried to roll over. She made a feeble attempt at spitting at Cady, but Cady ignored her and eventually Ellie wore herself out and just started to cry.

Cady was relieved to eventually see Vic's truck thundering down the road. She ground to a halt close to the door of the cabin and jumped out.

"Where is he? Is he okay?" she said, tearing into the house. "Walt!"

She found him lying on the couch looking a bit worse for wear.

"Oh, God, I was so scared," she said, kissing him on the lips and hugging him tightly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Vic," he said, feeling so much better by her reaction.

"You're not fine," she said, taking in his injuries. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No, Vic. I'm okay. Cady called Doc Bloomfield's office. He'll call by later," Walt told her.

"Are you sure? I mean, did she check your wounds? And it looks like you took a bad knock to the head, Walt. You could have a concussion," Vic reminded him.

"I'm pretty sure I do have a concussion, but it's not my first," Walt told her. "You need to concentrate on the woman outside. She's the driver from the robbery. She took it bad that I killed her partner and decided to take her vengeance."

"Are you serious?" Vic asked. "She came to take you out? She obviously didn't know who she was dealing with," she said, hugging him.

"Yeah. Get her secured in the truck until Agent Mason gets here. I'm sure he'll want to take her in," Walt told her.

Vic stood up.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, worried about him.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Could do with a beer though," he said, chancing him arm.

"I'm not falling for that," Vic replied. "Cady would kill me. Don't move. I'll be back in a while."

Walt lay there, unsure as to what part of his body hurt the most. He closed his eyes tightly to try block out the pain and nausea he was feeling. He could hear other vehicles pulling up outside. There were male voices that he didn't recognize. He could hear Vic involved in the discussion. The he heard no more.

The cars arriving were two FBI SUVs. Agent Mason stepped out of one and marched to where Cady, Vic and their prisoner were standing. He wanted to talk to Walt about what happened and take an official statement, but the girls told him that he was hurt and waiting inside on the doctor. Agent Mason was insistent, much to Vic's annoyance. He marched into the cabin and found Walt asleep and looking beaten and bloodied on the sofa.

He turned, realized he should have waited and apologized to a fuming Deputy Moretti.

"Do you need help to get him to a hospital?" the agent asked.

"No, the doctor is on his way. Just take that crazy chick away from here before I give her a taste of her own medicine," Vic said, referring to Ellie, who was being led to one of the SUV's by another agent.

"Okay, but when the sheriff is up to it, we'll need to talk to him," Agent Mason reminded her.

"Yeah, whatever," Vic replied, looking over with concern at Walt.

Cady was over with him, trying to waken him.

"Dad, wake up. Come on, you need to wake up for me," she said, gently shaking his shoulder.

Walt opened his eyes and found his worried-looking daughter looking down at him.

"Hey," he said, shifting sorely on the sofa.

"I know you're tired, but you need to try stay awake, Dad. You've got a concussion," Cady reminded him.

"I'm okay, Punk," he said, taking her hand to reassure her.

By now, the FBI was leaving and only Vic and Cady remained. They both fussed over Walt. Vic was no longer worried about what Cady thought. She fussed over him, gently wiping his face with a wash cloth, removing the dried in blood and clay.

Cady took a bottle of malt whiskey from the kitchen cupboard and poured herself a finger to steady her nerves. Witnessing the attack on her father and having to spring into action had shocked her greatly. It was not something she would experience in her normal daily life. She offered Vic a drink, but she declined. She knew her dad would love a shot, but didn't want to give him anything until he had been seen by the doctor.

Eventually the doctor arrived. They were expecting Doc Bloomfield, but Dr. Weston, from the hospital walked through the door.

"How are we doing, Walter?" he asked, walking immediately over to his patient.

"I'd be fine if they'd let me have a drink," Walt said, through gritted teeth.

"I don't think so, Walt. Let's have a look at you," he said, putting down his medical bag and pulling a chair over to the sofa. "So, who is going to tell me what happened?"

As the doctor examined Walt, Cady told him the story of the afternoon's drama. The doctor checked for a head injury and, as expected, diagnosed a concussion. He cleaned and sutured the wound on Walt's eyebrow to close the gash. Then he helped Walt open his shirt so he could check his healing bullet wound. He was happy that it looked okay. He wanted to check the leg wound so he helped Walt into the bedroom to lie down would make it easier to examine him.

Vic and the doctor each took an arm and assisted Walt to his room. They helped him remove his pants and saw the blood on the dressing covering his leg wound.

"Damn it, Walt," Vic said, seeing the renewed bleeding.

Walt sighed.

"I was taking it easy. She attacked me, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. It's just...sorry," Vic said, stumbling through an apology.

"It's not too bad," the doctor said, having removed the bandage. "Looks like it's just the stiches. Nothing deeper," he said, relieved that the muscle tissue had healed well enough to prevent further injury to the recently repaired blood vessel. "I'll suture it and re-dress it. You'll really have to rest up, Walt. You could have done without this."

"I know," Walt said, shifting in the bed.

"Let him rest, just wake him every couple of hours. If he complains of headache or nausea, bring him in to the hospital. If you're worried at all, come straight in," the doctor advised.

"Thanks, Doc," Vic said, showing him out. Cady thanked him too.

"You probably need to get back to work," Cady said to Vic once they were alone. "I'll stay with him."

"No, I'm good. I'd rather see he's okay," Vic told her. "Anyway, Branch and Ferg will be in by now."

Both Vic and Cady stayed that evening. Walt slept and slept. Fending off the attack had exhausted him. It took more than a few days to recover, but he had Vic and Cady fussing over him morning, noon and night.

After about a week, he'd had enough of lying around and of women invading his space. He insisted that Vic drive him to the office. He still walked with the aid of a cane, but was stronger now and far more mobile. Branch, Ferg and Ruby were more than surprised to see Walt and Vic walk through the door.

"Walter? What are you doing here?"

"Afternoon, Ruby," he said, hanging his hat in the usual spot and looking like he meant business.

"Vic, I thought he was supposed to be resting," Ruby said, glaring at her.

"He was," Vic said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I've done enough resting," Walt grumbled, limping to Ruby's desk. "Any messages?"

"Yes, plenty, but none for you," she said sharply, making sure he got the message that she wasn't happy that he was rushing back to work.

"Well then, I'll be in my office if you need me," Walt said, leaning heavily on the cane as he entered his office.

"So, does that mean he's back?" Ruby asked, sounding unconvinced.

"Yep, he's back."

The End

A/n - thanks so much for reading. Happy Christmas to you all.


End file.
